Taking the Moment
by Mandy15
Summary: Jarod is once again the target of a rival company's interest, and Miss Parker is deployed on a secretive retrieval mission in order to help him, going undercover in the Whitsundays - half a world away from help. Sequel to Genesis.
1. Part 1

Title: Taking the Moment.  
Author: Mandy  
E-mail: kitty_amazon@yahoo.com  
Rating: PG-13  
Category: S  
Spoilers: Mid-fourth season.   
Key words: UST.  
Author's Notes: Sequel to Genesis.   
Summary: Seven years after the events in 'Genesis', Jarod is once again the   
target of a rival company's interest. Miss Parker is deployed on a secretive   
retrieval mission in order to help Jarod, going undercover in the Whitsundays -   
half a world away from help.  
Disclaimer: Not mine blah blah blah no infringement intended, no profit gained.  
  
  
Taking the Moment.  
  
  
Jarod wasn't sure, at first, what had woken him. He was careful to keep   
his breathing even, not allowing the tension he felt to tighten his body in any   
way that could give him away, listening for any noises to warn him of danger.   
When he heard nothing, he dared to open his eyes a crack, searching the darkened   
motel room for any movement.  
  
When a figure stepped out of the darkness to lunge at him, Jarod rolled to   
the side, dropping to the floor as his assailant fumbled on the bed. Jarod made   
a desperate bolt for the door, but by then the figure had recovered, bodily   
throwing himself at the Pretender.   
  
Gasping for air, Jarod stumbled back and fell, grappled on the floor with   
the man. He managed to sneak in a couple of good hits, and was rewarded for his   
efforts by a fist to his jaw. He spat blood onto the carpet, giving a soft cry   
of rage as he redoubled his efforts, pushing the man to the floor and raising   
his fist, crashing it down on the man's masked face again and again. He was   
holding the man up, his fist pulled back, ready to strike again when the door   
burst open, several more masked figures piling into the room.  
  
Jarod struggled as they grasped him by his arms, growling in fury,   
kicking, biting and scratching as he was pinned down. He managed a vicious kick   
to one of his attackers, and the man stumbled away with a muttered curse.   
Desperate, Jarod began to yell hoarsely as he was held on the floor, futile   
calls for help. He knew it was all in vain when one of the figures raised a   
needle and jabbed it into his thigh.  
  
Six Months Later  
The Whitsundays  
East Coast Australia  
  
Seated carefully in a small speedboat, Miss Parker pressed a handkerchief   
to her mouth, doing her best to suppress a faint sense of queasiness as the boat   
skipped across the waves. The man at the helm turned to give her a brief,   
curious look, before focusing back on the island that they were gradually   
drawing closer to. The man sitting opposite her offered her a smile, lighting a   
cigarette and lounging back on the leather seat.  
  
Feeling hot, nauseous and nervous, Parker turned her head to gaze at their   
destination - Laredii Island. Approximately three square miles of tropical   
paradise, a privately owned island off the Australian coast. She had flown far   
too many hours to reach her destination, connecting flights from St. Louis to   
Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Auckland, New Zealand, Auckland into Melbourne,   
Australia, and finally the trip from Melbourne to Brisbane had been her last   
commercial flight. A small craft had been waiting in Brisbane, flying her the   
final distance to a tiny airstrip in Bowen, where she had landed just two hours   
ago.  
  
Having spent more time in the air than she cared to recall, Miss Parker   
had lost all sense of time and space, unsteady on her feet and dizzy with   
exhaustion. Yet she kept her back straight, carefully smoothing the crumpled   
skirt of her linen suit with shaking hands. Beside her sat one small case of   
luggage and a Halliburton briefcase, holding all the identification she would   
need to complete her identity change, from Miss Parker of the Centre to Ms Lila   
Mark, the new head of Security for Laredii Industries.  
  
In the six months since Jarod had disappeared off the face of the planet,   
Miss Parker had been working very hard. The fact that he had been abducted was   
immediately evident; Parker and her team had come across the motel room he'd   
been taken from just twenty-four hours after he was gone. The blood on the   
carpet had been identified as Jarod's, and signs of a scuffle were obvious. It   
had taken almost three months for Broots to track down who was responsible -   
Laredii Industries.   
  
Laredii Industries was not new to the Centre. In fact, Miss Parker   
remembered several attempts on their behalf to poach business from the Centre,   
but they had simply not been advanced enough to be any threat. Until, that is,   
they had managed to catch the Centre's lost trophy - Jarod.  
  
Three months ago, Miss Parker had insinuated herself into Laredii   
Industries' St Louis office. Her father and the Triumvirate had provided her   
with a complete identity; she was Lila Mark, an embittered ex-Centre Cleaner,   
eager to trade Centre secrets for a high salary and a corner office.   
  
Back in Blue Cove, Lyle was heading up the 'public' investigation into   
Jarod's disappearance, keeping up appearances. His was a faltering, fumbling   
investigation, providing enough cover for her to slip under the radar unnoticed.  
  
Parker, in just three months, had proved herself useful and power-hungry   
enough to impress the Director of Laredii Industries, and was now headed to   
their private compound in the Whitsundays to oversee security.   
  
Staring across the clear blue waters, Miss Parker pushed her hair off her   
face in a nervous gesture. She was aware that her mission here was dangerous,   
and the outcome was sketchy at best. She recalled her father's parting words to   
her.  
  
"Jarod must be retrieved from Laredii at all costs - dead or alive."  
  
Somewhere on Laredii Island's three-square miles, Jarod was being held   
captive. Broots had been unable to discover anything more than the fact that   
the Pretender was alive - what state he was in remained to be seen.  
  
****  
  
"Ms Mark?"   
  
Parker looked up at the clipped English accent as she stepped onto the   
small dock, almost slipping. The man who had escorted her to the island   
steadied her, and she gave him a quick nod of thanks. The woman who had   
addressed her gave a cool smile, holding her hand out.  
  
"Ms Mark, I'm Larissa Dalton... welcome to my island."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," Miss Parker murmured politely. The man picked up her   
bags and followed as they began to walk up the dock. Parker took the   
opportunity to study the English woman.  
  
Dalton was a few inches shorter than Parker, and possessed the kind of   
curvaceous figure that she had always envied. Dalton was deeply tanned, her   
long blonde hair almost white from the sun. She wore a khaki t-shirt and   
shorts, a concession to the heat, making Parker even more conscious of how hot   
and uncomfortable she felt.  
  
"St Louis sent over a list of your credentials... very impressive, Ms Mark,"   
Dalton said easily. They stepped off the small wooden dock and onto the clean   
white sand, and Miss Parker immediately regretted her three-inch heels.  
  
"I take pride in my work," she drawled thickly, "The Centre didn't seem to   
appreciate that, so I turned to somebody who would."  
  
"Very wise, and very profitable!" Dalton said with a laugh. Miss Parker smiled   
slightly, concentrating on keeping her balance as they walked up the beach.  
  
Soon enough they left the beach, pressing on into the thick tropical   
foliage, and Parker was relieved to find there was a boardwalk to make walking   
easier. As they walked she could see beautiful rainbow-coloured birds that   
clung to the trees, chattering noisily, and yet more that flittered from branch   
to branch. She gave a soft gasp as one swooped past her face, and Dalton   
laughed.  
  
"Rainbow lorikeets. They own the place..." Dalton explained.  
  
"They're beautiful," Parker said softly, and Dalton shrugged.  
  
"They're okay. It's the cockatoos you have to watch out for - bossy bastards.   
We have a few storage huts for equipment on the east side of the island, and   
they rip the wood right off the sills if we don't leave seed out for them."  
  
Miss Parker knew a little of Australian fauna, mostly from what she had   
seen in documentaries. She recalled cockatoos as being fat white birds, often   
close to a foot in height, with great yellow crests on their heads. Somehow she   
couldn't imagine such a cuddly-looking bird doing damage, but she also recalled   
their wicked hooked beaks.  
  
"You'll have your own rooms within the compound, but you're free to roam the   
island on your down time. It's rather isolated here, but Marco makes a trip to   
the mainland at least three times a week, and there are a couple of smaller   
boats for staff leisure, fishing and diving on the reef. We have jet skis for   
our men - tourists sometimes try and land their boats here," Dalton said.   
  
They were approaching a low building of glass and steel. Miss Parker knew from   
her brief that, like the Centre, most of the compound's floors were below   
ground. At the front entrance, Dalton pushed open the heavy doors to lead the   
way inside, a sparsely decorated and thankfully air-conditioned lobby.  
  
"I'll show you to your rooms, you must be tired. We'll reconvene at say... 0900   
tomorrow morning," Dalton said, checking her watch. She led the way through the   
lobby and down a corridor of glass, the rainforest pressing in at them.   
  
They reached another, smaller room, with several doors leading off it. Parker   
knew that the ground floor of the compound was laid out in a ring; around five   
of these such lobbies connected by glass corridors. Dalton showed her to a   
small yet comfortable suite, the man she assumed to be Marco leaving her luggage   
before they both made a quiet retreat. Miss Parker stared around her rooms - a   
small sitting room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, large glass windows providing   
views of the rainforest on every side.   
  
The furniture was simplistic, a small table with two chairs, a desk, a sofa and   
a coffee table. In the bedroom there was a queen-sized bed with a bedside   
table, and in the bathroom was a sunken bath. The glass walls would make her   
feel like she was bathing outside, Parker mused. There was no television, just   
a small stereo, a telephone and one shelf lined with books - all classics. Miss   
Parker unpacked with no small feeling of discomfort, disconcerted by the lack of   
normal walls - even the dividers between the rooms were made out of frosted   
glass. Anyone could look in on her and her actions with ease, and maybe that   
was the point.  
  
She made a quick scan for surveillance devices, relieved when she found nothing.   
Unpacking quickly, Parker pulled a satellite phone out of her briefcase and   
dialled, wedging the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she hung up her   
suits. She was about ready to drop from exhaustion, but needed to check in with   
her father first.  
  
"Angel! You're at Laredii?" her father asked immediately, and Parker sighed.   
As usual, he hadn't bothered to even ask how she was.  
  
"Yes Daddy, I'm here. Daddy, there isn't really that much security surrounding   
the island, surely the Centre could just come in and-" she said impulsively, but   
her father cut her off.  
  
"Nonsense!" he boomed down the line, "There is no way that the manpower needed   
could infiltrate the Whitsundays before they got Jarod out of there."  
  
It was an argument they had had before. Miss Parker had wanted Centre   
sweepers to descend on Laredii Island and simply take what they wanted, but Lyle   
had provided a resented voice of reason. He had pointed out that a large group   
of non-military armed agents would have great difficulty passing through   
customs without attracting enough attention for Laredii to notice. The fact   
that they didn't even know for sure if Jarod was in the compound, nor   
what security surrounded him, made such an attempt suicidal.  
  
One agent, Lyle had gone on to explain, working from the inside out, would   
have a much better chance of locating Jarod, assessing his condition and making   
an informed decision on how to proceed made much more sense. Grudgingly, Miss   
Parker had agreed, but was nevertheless surprised when her father had decided   
she would be that agent. Yet despite her protests, he had decided that as the   
Centre's most highly trained agent in the field of security, there was none   
better.  
  
"Have you seen him yet?" her father asked, breaking Parker out of her reverie.  
  
"No, I only just got here," she said softly, and could almost imagine her   
father's impatient expression.  
  
"Well, call us again when you have something," her father harrumphed.  
  
"All right, Daddy, I lov-" Miss parker stopped when she realised she was   
speaking to the dial tone.  
  
****  
  
Early the next morning, Parker was roused from sleep by an unfamiliar   
shrieking. It was just after dawn, and to her annoyance she realised that the   
birds were the ones making the noise, and miserably wondered if this was how she   
would begin everyday.  
  
She changed from her nightgown into shorts and a shirt, pulling on running   
shoes and venturing from her rooms. She saw several guards on her way to the   
front entrance, and did her best to ignore them. She made her way down to the   
beach, tying her hair up and beginning a steady jog up the shore.  
  
The day was hot already, and Miss Parker worked up a sweat within minutes.   
She kept her breathing even, ignoring the slight strain in her legs and the   
occasional slip of her runners on the sand. She ran half a mile up the beach   
and turned, wiping the sweat from her brow as she ran back. The sun was burning   
down on her, and when she made it back to the boardwalk she bent over, breathing   
heavily.  
  
Back in the compound, a man wearing just shorts was standing in the lobby,   
slathering sunscreen onto his chest. He caught sight of Miss Parker and smiled,   
an intrigued glint entering his eyes.  
  
"G'day," he said in an Australian accent, holding out his hand, "I'm Ken   
Jackson."  
  
"Lila Mark," Miss Parker said, shaking his hand and pushing some stray strands   
of hair out of her eyes. Jackson looked her over curiously.  
  
"You look pink. You need sunscreen if you go out there - the hole in the ozone   
layer means you fry in about five minutes," he remarked conversationally,   
"You're the new security head?"  
  
"Yes, although it seems fairly much under control here," Parker said with a   
smile. Jackson shrugged.  
  
"We have a new subject, he's tried to make a few breaks. We need you to tighten   
up this joint," Jackson said with an easy grin, and Parker was startled by how   
freely he spoke of Jarod. Amateurs, she thought wryly.  
  
"I was informed of the circumstances, but I'm not exactly sure what this   
'acquisition' everybody is speaking of is," Miss Parker said evenly. Jackson   
gave her a wink, watching with interest as she stretched.  
  
"I'll leave that up to Dalton, she'd have my hide if I let slip about something   
I shouldn't," he said. Parker raised a brow at him.  
  
"What exactly do you do around here, anyway, Mr Jackson?" she asked archly, and   
he chuckled, tucking his tube of sunscreen into his pocket and heading for the   
door.  
  
"Security - always suspicious. I'm a doctor, Ms Mark, no need to worry about   
me," he called over his shoulder, and then disappeared out into the rainforest.   
Parker shook her head in bemusement, heading back to her rooms for a shower. In   
her experience, it was the doctors who were the most trouble.  
  
****  
  
Just after three, Parker headed back into her rooms, feeling hot and   
tired. Dalton had dragged her around the whole damned island, showing her every   
nook and cranny, but not the parts she'd really been interested in - not the   
floors underground, nor where Jarod was being kept.  
  
Laredii Island was an efficiently run island, tourists kept away with the   
men on jet skis, and the perimeter of the rainforest had electrified wire   
running all through it - almost invisible in the foliage. The only space clear   
of the wire was the entrance to the beach via the boardwalk, and surveillance   
cameras monitored the whole path at all times. There had never been any   
breaches of the island - nobody knew about it, except for Laredii itself and,   
the Centre of course. The Australian government thought that Laredii Island was   
owned by a private millionaire with good security, and were happy as long as   
taxes were paid.  
  
In fact, the only reason that Miss Parker had been brought in at all, so   
far as she could figure, was to ensure that Jarod wouldn't escape. As Jackson   
had already mentioned, their newest subject had already made several attempts.  
  
The irony of it was killing her. She had saved Jarod seven years ago,   
began hunting him four years ago, lost him six months ago and was now attempting   
to save him again. It seemed that she could never define exactly what her role   
in his life was.  
  
Parker headed straight for the shower, feeling hot and sweaty from her day   
out in the sun. Stripping off, she stepped under the cool water, tipping her   
head back under the spray. She grabbed a bar of soap, scrubbing the sweat from   
her body. Just between her breasts, under her breastplate, was the faintest   
white mark, barely discernable unless you were looking for it. Miss Parker ran   
her fingers over it lightly. It was where a mob kid had stabbed her eight years   
ago, the event that had started a sequence of events that wound up with her as   
head of Security a year later, protecting Jarod from a kidnapping attempt.   
She'd had the scar removed with laser technology almost four years ago.  
  
Rinsing off the soap suds, Miss Parker studied the two other prominent   
scars on her body - an entry wound just above her heart, from when she had taken   
a bullet for her father, and a glancing scar across her left shoulder, from when   
Joe's bullet had grazed past her. She kept the scars to remind her of the   
mistakes she had made, but supposed she'd have those removed someday too.   
Someday.  
  
Parker emerged from the shower, wrapping a towel around herself and   
flicking her wet hair off her neck. Wandering back into the bedroom, she   
grabbed her satellite phone and dialled.  
  
"Broots here," came the cheerful answer.  
  
"Broots, it's me. Do you have anything more on Laredii's layout?" Parker asked.  
  
"Oh yeah, hold on," Broots said, and she could hear him rummaging around, "Lucky   
you, Miss P, hanging out on a tropical island. You must be wearing the biggest   
smile right now."  
  
Unable to resist a little needling, Parker lowered her voice to a sultry   
murmur, "Well actually, at the moment, I'm only wearing a towel."  
  
There was a long silence, before Broots made a soft choking noise.  
  
"Huh, I mean, um... Well, I managed to get some information out of an old   
janitor who was on Laredii Island until about a year ago. From what he saw,   
there are about three subterranean levels, and they have laboratories and some   
kind of prison cells!" Broots whispered excitedly.   
  
"Sounds like the Centre," Parker said darkly.  
  
"Exactly..." Broots said.  
  
"Good work. I'll check in again tomorrow to see what you've got," she said   
decisively, and ended the call.  
  
Dalton had arranged a four o'clock conference with Jackson to discuss   
strategies, and, she assumed, to inform her about their stolen Pretender.   
Hopefully, that would lead to a revelation of his whereabouts.   
  
****  
  
Jarod pricked his ears at the sound of movement somewhere near him. In   
frustration he rattle his chains, feeling bitter fury settle on him like a   
shroud. He wasn't exactly sure how long it had been since he was captured, but   
he was sure it had to be months now.  
  
At first, he had thought the Centre had him. He had woken up, his head   
pounding, in a small cell. The taste of filtered air was a dead giveaway to the   
fact that he was underground, and naturally he had assumed he was back in the   
sub-levels. Yet his continued demands of his keepers to see Sydney or Miss   
Parker had been met with wry smiles, and it hadn't taken long to figure out it   
he was not in the Centre.  
  
When the man named Jackson had attempted to initiate tests with him, Jarod   
decided he was somewhere near or in Australia. More than one of his handlers   
had Australian accents like Jackson, and almost everyone sported a deep tan and   
smelled of saltwater, which suggested the coast or an island.  
  
Jarod rattled his chains again, tugging in futility. After his first   
attempt at escape, he had been moved from a relatively comfortable cell with a   
bed, toilet and light to a small cell with just a toilet. After his latest   
escape attempt, he'd been placed in what was essentially a pit, and had ankle   
and wrist shackles attached to the wall. There was a catwalk running around and   
across his pit, with a ladder that lowered in when his handlers wished to gain   
access.  
  
Jarod heard the door to the cavernous room clang open, and the soft murmur   
of voices. Angrily he gave one last shake to his chains, then sat sullenly on   
the floor facing the wall, determined to ignore whoever it was. Since he had   
woken up here, Dr Jackson and his like had tried to tempt, coerce and blatantly   
bribe him into revealing more about himself and his abilities, but Jarod had had   
adamantly refused to participate in any of their studies. As a result, he had   
been beaten on more than one occasion.  
  
"...As you can see, we've had to take a little more extreme measures than we   
prefer," said a voice that Jarod recognised as Dalton's. He heard the metal   
grate of the ladder sliding into place.  
  
"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to make any progress with the subject so   
far, he's been extremely unhelpful," Jackson said, and Jarod scowled. He could   
hear the hollow sound of someone climbing down the rungs of the metal ladder.  
  
"Have you had any experience with Pretenders, Ms Mark?" Dalton asked, followed   
by more sounds of people descending the ladder. Three, he guessed. Jarod idly   
wondered who the new addition to the team was.  
  
"Not personally," a familiar voice said, "But the Centre does provide excellent   
training in... persuasion techniques."  
  
Jarod's eyes widened as he realised whom Ms Mark must be. And unless Miss   
Parker had defected from the Centre in his absence, which he seriously doubted,   
she was here undercover. Most likely sent by the Centre on a rescue mission.   
Jarod almost laughed aloud at the irony of it all.  
  
"Won't you stand up and face our guest, Jarod?" Dalton called mockingly. Jarod   
leapt to his feet and rounded on her, straining against his chains and growling,   
so Dalton took an involuntary step back, laughing nervously.  
  
"He's quite a fine specimen," Miss Parker said calmly, and raked her gaze over   
Jarod's bare chest approvingly. She raised her eyes back to his, and he could   
see the warning there.  
  
"Who's this Dalton? Another puppet for your game?" Jarod snarled, playing   
along. He quite liked this new development.  
  
"This is Ms Mark. She will be working with you and Jackson from now on," Dalton   
said coolly. Miss Parker began to walk towards him, and Jarod jerked his chains   
in a display of anger.  
  
"I wouldn't get too close, he's quite violent," Jackson said, and touched his   
hands to his ribs. Jarod had cracked a few of the Australian's ribs in a   
scuffle a few weeks ago, and now he smiled manically.  
  
"I'm not worried," Parker said softly. She stopped when she was just out of his   
reach, "While I never had access to the Pretender Project, I do know a bit about   
it. That should help with your studies, Dr Jackson."  
  
Jarod had the sudden desire to laugh. He could barely believe that Miss   
Parker was standing in front of him, looking as cool and as professional as   
ever, masquerading to be someone else. He could see no other reason for her   
being here than to aid him. That must be tearing her up inside, Jarod thought   
gleefully.  
  
"Another hotshot on our hands I see," Jarod murmured, "Just how far do you think   
you can go on the corporate ladder pushing a lab rat around?"  
  
Parker's eyes flared with amusement, and Jarod could see she was   
suppressing a smile. He felt a sudden moment of tenderness for her; she was   
probably risking her neck by being here, and for him.  
  
"I think I'll have a lot of fun with this one," Parker purred, and gave a   
predatory grin.   
  
"Good luck, I've had nothing but trouble," Jackson said with a snort.  
  
"It's all in how you handle them," Parker said, turning to face them, "A little   
give, a little take. Is it really necessary to have him in chains? He's got   
some rubbing on his wrists."  
  
"As we outlined before, he's made some escape attempts..." Dalton said, and   
Parker shrugged, taking out her gun.  
  
"It's okay. *I'm* here now."  
  
****  
  
As she wrapped some bandages around his wrists, Parker studied Jarod   
carefully. She had taken him up to the nurse's station, just one floor below   
ground. Seems as there was no actual nurse in the station, she was now   
bandaging Jarod's wrists herself while Jackson and Dalton stood back and watched   
- Dalton had her gun.  
  
Jarod was not in good shape; that was clear. For all his bravado, he had   
lost a lot of weight. He had a patchwork of bruises all over his body, and a   
cut over his right eye, and was sitting very stiffly. She caught his eye as she   
finished bandaging his wrist, and he gave her a long, adoring stare. For a   
moment she couldn't figure it out, until she heard the soft whispering of the   
pair behind her.  
  
"Look at him. One kind word in his direction and he's a puddle at her feet,"   
Dalton hissed, and Parker heard Jackson snicker.  
  
"Maybe he just doesn't go blondes, Larissa," he whispered back, and Miss Parker   
bit her lip to hide a smile.  
  
A moment later she turned away from Jarod coolly, retrieving her gun from   
Dalton, who checked her watch. Parker smiled tightly, "If you have somewhere to   
be, Miss Dalton, I can take Jarod back downstairs."  
  
Dalton hesitated for a moment, casting a sidelong glance at Jackson,   
before she apparently made up her mind. She gave Parker a quick nod, "Thankyou,   
Ms Mark, Jackson and I have work to do. I'll see you in the morning."  
  
Miss Parker and Jarod rode down in the lift in silence, mindful of the   
camera in the corner. But on the way back to the pit, Parker stopped Jarod with   
a hand on his arm, whispering, "There's no camera's here, we can talk."  
  
"Are you crazy?! What the hell are you doing here?" Jarod hissed.  
  
"The Centre sent me, of course," Miss Parker said flatly, "I'm here to get you   
out."  
  
"I'm fine, I would have gotten out by myself sometime," Jarod said, and she   
laughed scornfully.  
  
"Because you've been doing such a great job so far. I bet you don't even know   
where you are!" Parker said softly. She could tell by the look on his face that   
he didn't, and softened, "Jarod, I am the best person you've got right now.   
Laredii are amateurs, and sooner or later they're going to bumble their way into   
your death. It suits the Centre to retrieve you, so don't go looking a gift   
horse in the mouth."  
  
Jarod relaxed quite suddenly, leaning back against the wall, grinning   
lazily.  
  
"I think you just like saving my ass," he said huskily. Parker gaped at him.  
  
"Excuse me?" she asked.  
  
"Seven years ago," Jarod said, and she froze. He knew. Goddamn him, he knew.  
  
"You're a job, Jarod, just a job. Hunting you or saving you, I'm only looking   
after the Centre's best interests. Time to go," she said, and began walking   
down the corridor. Jarod chuckled, falling into step behind her.  
  
"You just keep telling yourself that..."  
  
****  
  
Back in his pit, Parker attached just one cuff of the ankle shackles to   
him, testing it carefully. Jarod grinned at her again.  
  
"For someone who says she's helping me, you sure are being careful with those   
chains," he murmured. Parker looked up sharply.  
  
"Cameras, Jarod," she said through her teeth. Jarod leaned forward, so his face   
was only an inch away from hers.  
  
"I short circuited it a few weeks ago," he said, and Miss Parker rolled her   
eyes.  
  
"Trust you, Houdini," she muttered, and gave the chain another yank.  
  
"So, Laredii, you said. Australia, I presume?" Jarod mused, and Parker nodded,   
"I was investigating them before they got me. How long has it been?"  
  
"Six months. We realised you were gone when we got more than two minutes of   
peace," Miss Parker deadpanned, straightening up. Jarod chuckled, as she looked   
him over, "They've really done a number on you, haven't they?"  
  
He shrugged, "Nothing I can't take. How long before we make a break for   
it?"  
  
"I don't know, I still have to check in with Daddy," she said softly.  
  
"Did you check in with Daddy last time?" Jarod asked, and Miss Parker stiffened.  
  
"What is it that you think you know, Jarod?" she asked, and Jarod tilted his   
head thoughtfully.  
  
"I know that in September 1993 somebody attempted to kidnap me, and you saved my   
life," he said.  
  
"Sydney said you didn't remember," Miss Parker said evenly. Jarod shrugged.  
  
"I didn't. I don't, not really. It's all kind of blurry, but I worked it out,"   
he said.   
  
He had strange, fleeting memories of being beside the pool, a woman stroking his   
back and helping him sit up, whispering assurances to him. It was a moment of   
kindness during his hour of need, and not something he could easily set aside or   
forget.  
  
"Gee, you're just so damn clever," Miss Parker said sarcastically, "I told you   
before. You're a job, Jarod, nothing more."  
  
"Sure Miss Parker, whatever you say," Jarod said with a smile, and she glared at   
him.  
  
"Whatever, Jarod. Just be ready, okay?"  
  
Without another word she headed over to the edge of the pit, climbing up   
the ladder without a backward glance. Jarod grinned to himself, and sat down,   
feeling infinitely more hopeful than he had at the beginning of the day.  
  
****  
  
"Nobody fucks with the Centre on my watch, understand?" Miss Parker growled.   
She twisted the knife and Joe's hand clenched, the gun firing. Parker cried out   
with pain, the bullet hitting her left shoulder. Joe was shaking beneath her,   
and the gun dropped from his hands.  
  
Joe coughed, his blood flecking onto Parker's face. His eyes were wide   
and he was sweating, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Miss Parker   
ignored the pain in her shoulder and bruised body, her blood flowing freely over   
both of them. She jerked the knife again. Joe twitched slightly and coughed   
again, then finally was still.  
  
Miss Parker awoke with a gasp, fighting off the remnants of the dream.   
For a moment she was disorientated, and clutched at her gun where it lay under   
the pillow. She stared around her small bedroom, at where branches tapped at   
the glass, green and shadowy in the dawn light, and slowly felt her heart rate   
returning to normal. Tiredly she climbed out of bed, pulling on her shorts and   
shirt in preparation for her morning run.  
  
Out on the beach, her feet pounding in the sand, she turned the situation   
over in her head. Jarod was in a pit, with a leg iron shackled to him, and   
while the camera in the room wasn't working, there was one directly outside the   
door, and one in the lift. There were three over the boardwalk outside the   
compound, swinging slowly from side to side, and the boardwalk was the only exit   
to the beach.  
  
Parker jogged almost halfway round the island before she paused for a   
break, resting her hands on her knees and breathing hard. She looked down to   
where gentle waves broke on the perfect white sand, then up to where sand met   
rainforest. She took a swig of water, thinking carefully. The dock was on the   
west side of the island, closest to the mainland. She now stood on the east   
side, and because Laredii was the outermost island in the Whitsundays spread,   
there was nothing between the east side of the island and the Pacific Ocean -   
except the protection of the Great Barrier Reef, of course.  
  
She straightened up, still breathing heavily, and drank more water from   
her bottle. Shielding her eyes, she peered into the depths of the forest,   
wondering just how far in the electrified wire was rigged.  
  
"Lose something?" A voice called, and Miss Parker turned to see Jackson jogging   
up the beach behind her. She shrugged.  
  
"I thought I saw something moving around in there," Parker said. Jackson   
grinned, and she tossed him her water bottle.  
  
"Feel like going for a swim?" he asked, squirting water into his mouth and over   
his face. Parker opened her mouth to tell him she didn't have a suit, then   
realised that was probably his intention.  
  
"Thankyou, no. I need to be getting back," she said, and Jackson grinned,   
tossing her the bottle.  
  
"I'll keep you company," he said cheerfully, and easily they began jogging back   
at a reasonable pace.  
  
"Are you from around here?" Miss Parker asked conversationally.  
  
"No," Jackson said, "Melbourne originally. I was working out of Monash Uni, but   
they, ah, didn't quite like where my research was headed. I found Laredii to be   
more... accommodating."  
  
"I've heard some interesting things come out of Monash," Parker remarked,   
puffing slightly, and Jackson nodded.  
  
"Yeah, great medical facilities. Australian research has gone a long way in   
areas like cancer," he said, sounding proud. There was a short silence between   
them before Jackson changed topics, "Do you dive at all Ms Mark?"  
  
"Scuba?" Miss parker asked in surprise. Jackson nodded and she shrugged, "Sure,   
I did a course once, but that's going back ten years or so."  
  
"We have some equipment here, how about I take you out tomorrow, give you a   
refresher course on the reef?" he asked.   
  
"I'd like that," Miss Parker said with a smile. Scuba gear changed everything.  
  
"I'd like you to assist during a session with Jarod today. He's seems quite   
taken with you," Jackson said, sobering slightly.  
  
"For all his brains, his mind's still firmly ensconced in his shorts," Miss   
Parker said with a soft laugh.  
  
"You seem to inspire that in men, Ms Mark," Jackson said with a wink. She   
ignored him, taking anotherswig from her bottle, deciding that Jarod's   
deception was working to both their advantages.  
  
**** 


	2. Part 2

After having spent another uncomfortable night on the floor, Jarod   
listened to the noises of his keepers' approach with a modicum of relief - at   
least he'd be allowed to move around a bit, and it was something to relieve the   
boredom.  
  
This time it wasn't Miss Parker or Dr Jackson, but two of the nameless,   
mindless guards who escorted him around. They were Laredii's version of   
sweepers, Jarod decided as they released him from his leg shackle and herded him   
up the ladder. He considered making a break for it, but knew it would just   
result in another painful beating, one he couldn't afford if Parker intended to   
break him out soon.  
  
He was surprised when he entered the lab to find not only Jackson, but   
also Parker there, and shot her a questioning glance as the goons chained him to   
a desk and chair, which were bolted to the floor. Her face revealed nothing,   
and he flashed Jackson a deliberately annoyed look, sitting slowly.  
  
"Don't tell me - if I don't cooperate, she's going to break my fingers," he   
jeered.  
  
"If you think that would help you focus, Jarod, then I'd be happy to assist,"   
Miss Parker quipped. Jarod almost smiled; he was quite enjoying their banter   
now that she was trying to help rather than harm him.  
  
"Ms Mark is here for my benefit, Jarod," Jackson said calmly. In a now familiar   
ritual, he placed a sheet of paper in front of Jarod. He glanced over it   
quickly, noting the complex mathematical problems, problems far beyond the   
average person's intellect. Jackson and his team had been trying to determine   
the extent of Jarod's intelligence for a long time now, but he had refused to   
play ball.  
  
"This has never worked before, why would you possibly think I'd start now?"   
Jarod demanded impatiently. Jackson shrugged, and Jarod flicked his eyes over   
to where Parker was leaning against the wall with cool poise.   
  
"Dr Jackson, I could really use a cup of coffee. Care to join me?" she asked   
sweetly. Jackson hesitated for a moment, but she gave him a meaningful look,   
and they left the room together a few seconds later.  
  
Jarod was no fool. There was a two-way mirror set into one wall, and he   
knew they were behind it, watching him. In frustration, he wondered at what   
Parker was playing at. How was this possibly helping him?   
  
As the minutes slowly ticked by, Jarod grew more and more restless. He   
studied the shackle on his leg, as he had many times before, knowing there was   
no way he could get it open. He was only allowed solid graphite pencils for the   
work, not a pen, which he could have broken apart and used as a makeshift tool.  
  
As his boredom steadily increased, he realised what Parker was doing. If   
she could prove herself useful to Jackson and Dalton, there was the possibility   
that she would be given more time alone with Jarod. And to prove herself   
useful, she had to get him to work.  
  
With an exasperated expression, Jarod made a great show of reluctantly   
picking up the pencil and doing some work.  
  
****  
  
"It worked!" Jackson said in surprise, and Parker smiled smugly.  
  
"Of course it worked. Pretenders are very smart, and need to be mentally   
stimulated at all times, or they get very bored very quickly. Jarod would   
rather do the problems you gave him than sit there and do nothing."  
  
It wasn't entirely true. From the accounts of people he'd spent time   
with, Jarod could go for long periods doing absolutely nothing at all, at least   
on the surface, anyway. From when they were children she knew that he liked to   
create and solve problems in his head, and almost seemed to find it as a method   
of relaxation - a lack of external stimulation wouldn't be a problem for very   
long. But Laredii didn't have to know that, and if she fed them a little   
misinformation, what could it do but benefit the Centre?   
  
"How long should we leave him for?" Jackson asked, a newfound respect in his   
voice.  
  
"Until he finishes. Then I daresay we should get in there as quickly as   
possible - he might destroy it after he's done," Miss Parker said serenely,   
watching as Jarod bent over his paper, tapping his left thigh. It was a scene   
she had witnessed before, seven years ago. Then, Jarod had never comprehended   
life outside the Centre, and no shackles were needed to keep him in place.   
Then, she had been ordered to protect him, part of a sick plot to prove herself   
to the Triumvirate.  
  
"Looks like he's almost done. Would you like the honours?" Jackson asked with a   
slight smile. Parker smiled tightly in return, stepping swiftly out of the   
small observation room, rounding the corner and entering the lab stealthily.   
Jarod heard her enter, but didn't look around.  
  
"Clever trick, Ms Mark," he said, and Parker knew that he understood what she   
was doing and why.   
  
Aware that Jackson was watching, she leaned over Jarod's shoulder to push his   
hands away from the completed sheet, and studied the results. Jarod inhaled   
deeply, turning his head so his face was close to her neck. She pressed a   
little closer, so her breasts brushed against his back, and ignored the little   
thrill she got from the action.  
  
"You wouldn't throw these results, now would you Jarod?" she asked in a sultry   
fashion. He didn't answer for a few seconds.  
  
"Now that would be my prerogative, wouldn't it?" he murmured, his breath warm on   
her neck.  
  
"We'll be needing those results, Ms Mark!" Dalton called from the doorway, and   
Parker did her best not to openly startle.   
  
Instead she straightened up slowly, allowing the tips of her fingers to rest on   
the gentle curve of where Jarod's neck met shoulder. He gave a barely   
noticeable shiver, and she wondered just how much of his performance was faked.   
Pasting on a smile, she turned slightly to face Dalton.  
  
"Jarod's been very cooperative," she said silkily, and felt him tense under her   
fingers.  
  
"And it won't be happening again!" he snapped belligerently.  
  
"We'll see Jarod, we'll see," Dalton said.  
  
****  
  
Jarod knew he was asking for trouble. Miss Parker was escorting him back   
to the pit again, and due to the cameras in the lift, hadn't spoken a word to   
him. He lounged indolently in the corner, ignoring her gun. He had every   
confidence that she was going to break him out soon, and in the meantime was   
going to have a little fun.  
  
"Oh Ms Ma-ark," he called in a song-song voice. She ignored him.   
  
Jarod straightened slightly, biting his lip and focusing on her with a   
predatory expression. He began to inch across the elevator floor towards her,   
his hands bunched close to his chest, as if preparing to grab her.  
  
"Ms Mark, you've been *so*nice to me these last few days," he said mockingly.   
She stiffened slightly, but continued to ignore him, waiting impatiently for the   
lift to finish its journey.  
  
"I just don't know how to thank you..." Jarod whispered, mere inches away now.   
The elevator doors opened, and Miss Parker brushed past him, not waiting for him   
to follow. It wasn't until they reached the corridor that was clear of cameras   
that she spoke, shoving him up against the wall and pinning him there.  
  
"Quit it, Jarod, your little games are getting real tired real fast," she   
hissed. He grinned.  
  
"If I had a dollar for every time you said that..."  
  
"I'll show you where you can shove your goddamned dollar!" Parker muttered, and   
Jarod leaned forward, so his face was barely an inch away from hers. With slow   
deliberation, he lowered his gaze to focus on her mouth.  
  
"I think you like me, Miss Parker," he whispered.  
  
Letting out a frustrated growl, Parker gave him a quick shove and stepped   
away from him, breathing heavily.  
  
"You sure do like to delude yourself, you over-sized monkey!" she snarled.   
Jarod frowned, his good mood dissipating.  
  
"If anyone around here is suffering from delusions, it's you!" he replied.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Parker said, crossing her arms across   
her chest defensively.  
  
"Oh, come off it. 'You're just a job Jarod...'" he mimicked, and Parker's face   
went dark with fury.  
  
"You'd damn well better believe it, you fool," she said, and Jarod laughed.  
  
"I wasn't a job seven years ago..." he accused. Parker was almost shaking with   
anger now, and she jabbed a finger at him.  
  
"Seven years ago, you were a mistake! I risked my neck for you, and why? For   
some sick damn test, one that you yourself devised! I have blood on my hands   
because of you, you freak, so you'd better be just a *damn* job, otherwise I'd   
shoot you right now for what you did to me!"  
  
Jarod went cold, staring at her with his mouth agape.   
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"You know what I'm talking about Jarod. I've had enough," she said tiredly,   
grabbing his arm and propelling him along the corridor, "It's time for you to go   
back to your hole."  
  
Jarod wanted to say a lot more, but knew that he couldn't in an area where   
he could possibly be filmed. As Parker chained him again in the pit, he thought   
back over her words. 'Blood on my hands,' she had said. Sydney had told him   
that nobody had been seriously hurt during the kidnapping attempt, but he   
supposed Sydney might not have told him the truth at the time. It just hadn't   
occurred to Jarod to doubt his Mentor back then. As Parker stood up to leave,   
he thought frantically of some way to show her he wanted to further their   
discussion later.  
  
"Ms Mark?" he called softly. At the foot of the ladder, Parker turned to look   
at him with narrowed eyes, and he offered her a gentle smile, "I'll see you   
later, Ms Mark."  
  
Miss Parker made no acknowledgement, turning instead to climb up the   
ladder and leave him alone once more.   
  
****  
  
Miss Parker found that her diving training returned to her quite easily,   
and returned to her rooms the next afternoon with a feeling of quiet confidence.   
Jackson had shown her all the equipment, as well as how to access the storage   
shed where it was kept. They had enjoyed a quick dive on the reef together, and   
then washed up their wetsuits and equipment. She showered quickly to rinse the   
salt off her body, checked the room once again and pulled out her satellite   
phone.  
  
"Lyle here," came the swift response, and Miss Parker frowned impatiently.  
  
"Where's Broots?" she asked, and Lyle made a soft sighing sound.  
  
"Hell of a way to greet the brother you haven't seen in months," he said.  
  
"Hello brother," Parker said sweetly, "Where's Broots?"  
  
"He's here. We're working on some 'reward' advertisements for the internet,"   
Lyle said smoothly. Miss Parker new that the advertisements would be   
conspicuous enough for Laredii Industries to find them, and view it as another   
sign that the Centre was becoming more and more desperate.  
  
"Miss Parker?" Broots' voice came on the line. She surmised that Lyle was still   
on the line - she could hear him breathing.  
  
"Do you have anymore information on the island, Broots?" she asked, and there   
was a brief rustling of paper.  
  
"Yes, some blueprints from the original construction on the island - I'm not   
sure how up to date they are, but I'm emailing them to your account," Broots   
said.  
  
"Parker, have you made contact with Jarod?" Lyle asked.  
  
"I have. He's all right, but he's suffered some beatings. The staff don't   
quite seem to know how to deal with him - they're still attempting to map out   
his abilities," Miss Parker said, trapping the phone between her ear and her   
shoulder as she pulled her laptop out of her briefcase.  
  
"They haven't got him doing simulations, have they?" Broots asked, and she   
laughed.  
  
"Hardly. They wouldn't know where to begin - they planned his capture   
perfectly, but now that they have him, they're not sure what to do with him."  
  
"Do you know how you're going to get him out yet?" Lyle asked impatiently.  
  
"Getting access to Jarod isn't the problem. It's getting him off the island I'm   
worried about. Laredii has security on both the island and the mainland, so if   
I did manage to get him off the island, they'd be waiting for me at the dock.   
I'm beginning to think that I may need Centre involvement to provide a   
distraction," Parker mused.  
  
"Dad doesn't want-" Lyle began.  
  
"I know what Daddy doesn't want," Miss Parker interrupted irritably, "But I   
simply can't do this alone. Tell Daddy I'll call him with the details - and I   
expect all the backup I need."  
  
Parker ended the call, crossing her arms and letting out a soft hiss of   
impatience. She didn't want this situation to end like the Specifics attack   
seven years ago - with blood on her hands.  
  
****  
  
That afternoon, Parker descended into the pit with Dalton by her side.   
Jarod was lying on the floor, and didn't rise when they dropped the ladder down,   
nor when they approached him. Miss Parker assessed the bruises she could see on   
his back, and the shallow rise and fall of his breathing.  
  
"What happened?" she is asked Dalton, who sighed.   
  
"He must have attempted escape again," the blonde said lightly.  
  
Jarod wouldn't have attempted another escape, Parker knew, wouldn't have   
risked injury when help was so near at hand. From the cruel, vindictive   
expression on Dalton's face, she realised that Jarod's beating, both this time   
around and perhaps in the past as well, was probably because the Pretender had   
rejected her advances. And seeing him behave like a lovesick puppy to me   
couldn't have helped either, Miss Parker mused.  
  
"Help me roll him over," she said coldly.  
  
Together they pushed and pulled Jarod onto his back, and Parker knelt over   
him. One eye was swollen, and there was blood trickling from a cut on his lip.   
She touched her hand to his forehead, and almost snatched it away again when she   
realised how hot he was. Jarod cracked his eyes open at her touch, and she   
could see they were clouded with pain.  
  
"Can you get up?" Miss Parker asked. Jarod blinked slowly, and rolled his head   
from side to side, no. She looked over her shoulder at Dalton, trying not to   
let her fury seep into her voice, "He needs medical attention. Is there some   
way to lift him out of here?"  
  
Dalton looked impatient, "I suppose a stretcher and some ropes... is this   
really necessary?"  
  
"He has a fever, and we can't take the risk of internal bleeding. He may need a   
hospital - tell your men to be a little more careful next time, Pretenders are   
worth more than their annual salary."  
  
Getting Jarod out of the pit wasn't an easy operation. Three men and   
Jackson rigged up a stretcher with some ropes. Dalton and Parker steadied the   
stretcher as best they could while the men pulled him up.  
  
"The nurse's station doesn't have a bed, is there any other quarters we could   
take him to?" Parker asked when he was on ground level. Dalton looked   
uncomfortable, seeming to regret the idea of having Jarod beaten in the first   
place.  
  
"There is only the quarters on the ground floors..." she said hesitantly.  
  
"That will have to do, we'll just have to post guards," Parker said decisively,   
motioning for the men to continue on to the elevator. Dalton caught her arm   
angrily.  
  
"Ms Mark, you are overstepping your authority. Jarod is *my* project, and-"  
  
"No, Miss Dalton, you are overstepping yours," Miss Parker interrupted, staring   
the other woman down, "Jarod is Laredii's project, and I am here to protect   
Laredii's interests. A beating on your orders in not what I consider to be in   
Laredii's best interest, rather your personal vendetta. I am relieving you of   
any influence over Jarod, and will be contacting the Director to inform him of   
your misconduct. That will be all, Miss Dalton."  
  
And with that, Parker left the gaping woman behind, accompanying Jarod and   
the men into the elevator.  
  
****  
  
Jarod watched Miss Parker quietly conferring with Jackson from the corner   
of the room, apparently oblivious to the security guys that wandered around her,   
removing anything that could be used. Jarod's leg had been shackled to the bed,   
and one guy was installing a series of new locks on the doors. Jarod wasn't   
particularly concerned, and tilted his head to look out the window.  
  
Rainforest. Sunlight. He realised what an incredibly long six months it   
had been, and was struck once again by how much he missed his freedom. What he   
wanted now was the taste of fresh air, the wind blowing in his face and perhaps   
a nice long swim, but he settled for watching the colourful birds hang from the   
trees instead.  
  
When the last of the men had cleared out, Jarod watched Jackson lean in   
for one more, furious whisper to Parker before stalking out of the room, and   
surmised the two were probably arguing about Parker's dismissal of Dalton. The   
door slammed, and Miss Parker turned to gaze at Jarod, flicking the key to the   
door over her fingers with practised ease.   
  
She disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a wet   
cloth and washbasin, perching on the edge of the bed and laying the cloth across   
his forehead. Jarod watched her through his painfully swollen eye, raising his   
hand and miming a pen. Parker frowned at him, taking out a pen. She held out   
her hand, and Jarod scrawled a question onto her skin, 'SURVEILLANCE?'   
  
Miss Parker nodded, rising and systematically checking all the rooms for   
bugs. Jarod watched in admiration; she was methodical and thorough, a look of   
concentration on her face as she checked everything. When she was finished, she   
came back to sit beside him, shaking her head.  
  
"All clear," she said, and Jarod smiled, lifting his hand and flipping the cloth   
on his forehead over so that he got the fresh, cooler side. Miss Parker caught   
his hand as he went to drop it again.  
  
"You're moving that arm pretty well for a man who couldn't get off the floor an   
hour ago," she said with a wry smile.  
  
"The change of scenery must have done me good," he said, and she laughed.  
  
"You asshole," she said, "I was about to have a panic attack, thinking I   
couldn't get you out of here."  
  
"A little exaggeration never went astray," Jarod said softly. Parker looked   
around at Jarod's new and improved quarters, on the ground floor, no less.  
  
"No, I guess not," she murmured. Miss Parker wet the cloth again, laying it   
across Jarod's forehead, and then tilted his chin up slightly, frowning, "You've   
got a cut just above your collarbone, I should probably dress that."  
  
She disappeared into the bathroom again, and Jarod stretched, attempting   
to get some of the kinks out of his body. He winced slightly at a pain in his   
ribs. When Parker came back into the room, he had the sheet around his waist,   
and was attempting to peer down his body at his ribs.  
  
"What the hell are you doing now?" she asked irritably, sitting next to him and   
pushing him down by the shoulder.  
  
"My ribs hurt. Can you see if there's any bruising?" he asked.  
  
Miss Parker nodded, tucking the blankets down to his hips. She leaned   
over his body for a closer inspection, several locks of her silky hair falling   
free and brushing his chest. Gently she probed the area with cool fingers, and   
Jarod sucked in a breath when she touched several of the lower ribs where they   
were closest to his breastbone.  
  
"There's no bruising, yet it's obviously tender," Parker said in confusion.  
  
"The cartilage must be strained, it'll probably heal up within a day or two,"   
Jarod said mildly. He knew it wouldn't take long to heal, but it was certainly   
going to make sleeping and moving around in the meantime hell.  
  
Miss Parker pushed and prodded at the area for a few seconds longer, and   
then turned her attention to the cut on his neck. She cleaned it gently with   
the cloth first, put some antiseptic on it and then a small adhesive bandage.   
With her leaning in so close to his face, Jarod couldn't help smell her perfume,   
something soft, slightly spicy and delicate, suiting her perfectly. He could   
detect just the slightest hint of seawater under her perfume, and instinctively   
turned his head so his nose was close to her hair, inhaling deeply.  
  
"That should do it. Remind me to change the bandage tomor-" Miss Parker sat up   
abruptly, trailing off when she realised what he was doing. Jarod turned his   
face away in embarrassment.  
  
"Uh, thanks," he said, and Parker nodded, concentrating on soaking the cloth   
again.  
  
"I've been in contact with the Centre, and they've promised backup," she said,   
not meeting his gaze, "You'll need a day or two to recover, and a day or two for   
me to get all the preparations in order, but it shouldn't be long before we make   
a move, so be ready. Can you scuba dive?"  
  
Jarod was tempted to laugh at her brusque attitude, but nodded instead, "I   
was an instructor once."  
  
"Perfect," Parker said, gathering up the antiseptic and bandage wrappers and   
rising, "I'll be back tomorrow. Don't do anything stupid."  
  
A few minutes later she was gone, and Jarod relaxed against the soft   
pillow sleepily. He turned his head again to watch the birds, smiling slightly.   
Just a matter of time, he decided, and then he'd be free again.  
  
****  
  
That evening, Miss Parker called the Director of Laredii Industries from   
her room. The conversation was brief but to the point; the Director approved of   
her handling of Dalton, and would request the woman's immediate return to the St   
Louis offices, and further investigation into her actions would be pending.   
After that, Parker made a quick call to her father, outlining the situation with   
Jarod and her intentions to get him out within five days.  
  
"Good job, Angel," her father said approvingly, and Parker felt a warm sense of   
pride in her chest.  
  
"Daddy, I'm afraid the Centre is going to have to have a hand in this. I can't   
take Jarod back to the mainland, as Laredii operatives would be waiting for us,   
I'm going to have to take him out by sea. Can we arrange a meeting point on the   
reef?" Miss Parker asked. There was a long silence as her father mulled over   
her question.  
  
"I'll send some people into Fiji, Angel, and see what I can do. We've managed   
to get a few men into Australia so far, after you get Jarod out, I think we'd   
like to have Laredii Island shut down for good. I'll have that techie of yours   
send you the details. How is Jarod reacting to your presence there?"  
  
"He's been good about it, I think he wants us to get him out as much as we want   
him out. He's done nothing that could reveal my true identity, and is   
cooperating fully," Miss Parker said smoothly. There was a soft sound of   
approval.  
  
"Another reason you were perfect for the job, Angel. Get him out soon," her   
father said, and ended the call.   
  
Miss Parker made herself a drink and turned on some soft music, staring out the   
window into the dark tropical forest. She was pleased by her father's promise   
of support, but nevertheless felt troubled by the whole situation. Her father   
was using her love for him and her compassion for Jarod shamelessly, placing her   
into a very dangerous situation with no safety net. Sure, everything was roses   
while she remained in a position of control, but should her true identity be   
discovered, Parker had no doubt she was in for a slow and painful death.  
  
Jarod was being his usual painful self, of course, but she had to admit   
that some of his antics were... amusing, considering the circumstances.   
Considering that she wasn't the focus of his clever mind games for once. The   
exaggeration of his injuries was a stroke of genius, Parker thought, and then   
smiled. Of course it was genius - Jarod *was* a genius.  
  
The events of the afternoon had surprised her. Miss Parker touched her   
fingers to the glass, chewing her lip hesitantly. If she was honest with   
herself, Parker had to admit she had taken a little longer than needed   
'examining' Jarod's chest, trailing her fingers over his warm golden skin. And   
when patching up the cut on his neck, she had raised her head to realise that   
Jarod was leaning in, an expression of tender concentration on his face as he   
inhaled deeply.  
  
He'd been breathing in her scent.  
  
"Ridiculous," Miss Parker scoffed to herself softly.  
  
Angry at the direction of her thoughts, Parker threw down the last of her   
drink in one quick gulp. It wouldn't pay to have those kind of thoughts about   
Jarod, in fact it was downright dangerous. She had her career and her life to   
think about, not to mention her own self-respect.  
  
If her father was to be believed, Jarod had engineered the situation seven   
years ago, in which she had killed a man in an attempt to save his life. A   
test, a way to prove her worthiness as head of Security, and, as her father had   
explained on more than one occasion, all Jarod's idea in the first place.  
  
The problem with that line, though, was the fact that Jarod had never   
mentioned it, not once in the four years he'd been out. Of course, until   
recently, Miss Parker had assumed and hoped that Jarod was still unaware of the   
identity of his saviour. Immediately after the incident he'd had very little   
memory of the actual events, Sydney had reported. Yet if Jarod knew it was   
Parker all along, as he had claimed, then why had he never raised the subject?   
Surely she would have received a phone call as he made some noble attempt to   
appease himself in her eyes?  
  
Parker groaned softly, admitting to herself that she was no longer clear   
on exactly what Jarod's involvement had been in the Specifics fiasco seven years   
ago. She had held onto the idea of blaming Jarod for so long, she found it hard   
to conceive any other possibility. It was true that she had since discovered   
her father had lied to her on more than one occasion, and yet...  
  
And yet, if Jarod was not to blame for the blood on her hands, then she   
had no basis to hate him in the first place.  
  
****  
  
Jarod spent much of the next day bored. He kept up his act of being far   
more hurt than he actually was, which meant laying in the bed and feigning   
sleep, for Jackson spent a lot of time in the room, apparently writing up some   
notes. Jarod wondered if the Australian doctor was suspicious of him, or merely   
had nothing better to do.  
  
In the evening Miss Parker arrived, conferring quietly with Jackson before   
bringing Jarod his evening meal on a tray. He made a great show of struggling   
to sit up, leaning feebly back on the pillows and panting with exertion.   
Jackson watched with interest as Miss Parker settled the tray across his lap.  
  
"You know Jarod, just because you are confined to a bed, doesn't mean your mind   
isn't perfectly capable of working," Jackson said, sounding waspish. Parker,   
who had her back to the doctor, frowned in brief annoyance, but said nothing.  
  
"I don't know, Doc, your boys got me pretty good this time. Maybe I've got   
brain damage," Jarod said weakly. He contemplated the tray in front of him;   
there was a bowl of thick potato and leek soup, and a hot crusty roll. It was   
the best food served to him in months, and yet Jackson's presence was enough to   
turn his stomach.  
  
Miss Parker leaned forward, lifting the dressing on Jarod's neck to check   
the wound underneath. He gazed at the graceful curve of her neck for a moment,   
and then turned his head in time to catch Jackson's knowing smirk. He felt   
Parker's fingertips touch his collarbone lightly, and gave the Australian man a   
challenging stare.   
  
"I'm sure Ms Mark has ways of 'coercing' you," Jackson said slyly, his tone   
implying that Jarod wouldn't need much persuading at all.  
  
"This dressing needs changing," Parker said flatly, peeling the previous day's   
bandage from the base of Jarod's neck. She disappeared into the bathroom, and   
he lifted his spoon and dipped it into the soup.  
  
"Don't you have anybody else to pester, Jackson?" Jarod muttered.  
  
"Ms Mark was involved in some other security work today," Jackson said with a   
shrug and a leer, "Usually she keeps me otherwise occupied - but I'll leave you   
in her capable hands for now.  
  
Miss Parker re-entered the room just as Jackson was leaving, and waited   
until the door was closed and locked again before sweeping the room as she had   
done the day before. When she found no bugs she perched on the edge of Jarod's   
bed, while he eyed her warily.  
  
"How far would you go to get me out of here, Miss Parker?" Jarod asked softly,   
beginning to eat his soup. She frowned, taking a small bandage out of its   
sterilized wrapper.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked. Jarod put his spoon down while she applied some   
antiseptic cream to the cut on his throat.  
  
"Jackson implied that you and he were..." Jarod trailed off.  
  
"What?" Parker asked sharply.  
  
"Would you sleep with him if it meant you'd get me out?" he asked bluntly. Miss   
Parker straightened angrily.  
  
"You over-estimate your value, Jarod," she said dangerously.  
  
"But not your devotion to your father," he countered, "That is why you're doing   
this, isn't it? Because Daddy crooked his finger, and you came a running?"  
  
"You bastard!" Miss Parker hissed. Jarod raised his chin defiantly.  
  
"Tell me the truth, Miss Parker. Are you, or are you not, sleeping with   
Jackson?"  
  
"And if I were?" she snapped.  
  
"I'd tell you not to bother on my behalf, I'd rather not be responsible for you   
whoring yourself," Jarod said, regretting it almost immediately. Parker's eyes   
were glittering, and she threw the bandage down in disgust.  
  
"Do your own damn dressing," she growled, standing up and marching off. Jarod   
clenched his fist agitatedly.  
  
"Wait!" he called, and Parker stopped, but didn't turn around. Jarod sighed   
heavily, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I've just been going crazy cooped up   
in here, and I lashed out at you when you don't deserve it."  
  
Miss Parker turned around slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "I am *not*   
sleeping with scum like Jackson. Not even you are worth paying that price,   
Jarod," she said angrily. He nodded.  
  
"I know, I'm sorry," Jarod said softly. Grudgingly Parker came back to sit on   
the bed, and he pressed the bandage back in her hand. A she applied it, he   
tilted his chin up, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "Perhaps we should   
declare a truce, just a temporary one, until we're out of here. I'd rather just   
have one enemy at the moment. No arguing."  
  
Miss Parker nodded, her long hair brushing across his shoulder, "Agreed.   
And no bringing up the past, Jarod."  
  
"Fine," he said.   
  
Jarod still wanted to ask what she meant when she said she had blood on her   
hands, but decided it could wait until later, until he was off the island, at   
least. Miss Parker straightened up slightly, her fingers skimming down his   
chest to his ribs, and he almost jumped as her fingers brushed his nipple. Her   
fingers probed delicately at his lower ribs, and she seemed not to notice as   
Jarod gazed at her with surprise.  
  
"Is this still tender?" Miss Parker asked, and he decided she mustn't have   
realised what she'd done.  
  
"Yeah, a bit," Jarod said, picking up his spoon again, and eating with an   
enthusiasm he didn't feel.   
  
Her fingers were *cold*, Jarod thought, and wished she'd back off before he had   
the kind of response to her proximity that he wouldn't be able to hide when she   
took the tray that covered his lap. Parker prodded the area a bit more, as if   
doubtful there wasn't a cracked rib in there somewhere. Finally she sat up,   
chewing her lip in a distracted way.  
  
"What was the security you were doing today?" Jarod asked, glad she had backed   
off.  
  
"The island's control room, just generally checking up on it. Normally   
something Dalton would do," Parker said, shrugging, "Another reason to be glad   
she's gone."  
  
"She's left already?" he asked.  
  
"Went back to the mainland today," she said with a malicious smile. Jarod   
chuckled.  
  
"I'm sure you were sorry to see her go," he said, and Parker gave a soft snort   
of derision.  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Parker laughed softly, and Jarod finished off the last of his soup and   
bread, feeling content. She didn't laugh nearly enough, and never in his   
presence, not since they were children. It was nice to see her face lit up like   
that.  
  
"I'd better go," Miss Parker said a short while later, picking up his tray.   
Jarod smiled warmly.  
  
"Goodnight, Parker," he called, watching her swaying hips until she had left the   
room.  
  
****  
  
Out in the corridor, Parker leaned against the door briefly, ignoring the guard   
who stood patiently beside her. She was *definitely* having problems keeping   
her distance, and kept having to remind herself that it was just a job. And yet   
she'd barely been able to keep her hands off him! So the man has a good body,   
Miss Parker thought, doesn't mean you should pet him like a puppy! As she well   
knew, this particular pup had a wicked bite.  
  
Balancing the tray on one hand as she headed back to her own rooms, Parker   
briefly touched her other hand to her chest, where the scar had once been. It   
was a reminder of a time when she was caught off guard, and it had almost cost   
Parker her life. A lesson she had learned twice over with Joe seven years ago,   
a mistake she was not inclined to forget. Getting too close to Jarod was   
dangerous.  
  
**** 


	3. Part 3

The break, when it came, was a lot less dramatic than Jarod had expected.   
It had been a few days since he had seen Miss Parker, and he assumed she was   
making preparations for their escape. Nevertheless, he was surprised in the   
late afternoon when there was a heavy thump outside the door. Jarod sat up in   
bed as the locks all clicked open, and Parker pushed open the door. She was   
wearing only a black bikini and had a tiny waterproof bag slung over her   
shoulder. There was a guard lying unconscious at her feet, and she tossed Jarod   
a key.  
  
"Quickly, we don't have much time," she called, and began to drag the man into   
the room.  
  
Jarod flung the blankets off, unlocking the ankle shackle. He swung his   
legs over the edge of the bed and made to stand up, but found his legs buckling.   
He slumped back onto the bed with a soft groan. Miss Parker finished dragging   
the man into the door and kicked the door shut, looking up at Jarod in   
puzzlement.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, swinging her bag off her shoulder and rifling through   
it.  
  
"I haven't been on my feet for a few days - just a bit wobbly," Jarod said. He   
tried standing gingerly again, and managed to stay upright this time.  
  
"Yeah, well, you'd better find your feet quickly, we're on a budgeted timeline   
here. And put these on," Parker said, tossing him a pair of shorts. Jarod   
looked at the shorts, at the loose pair of pants he was wearing, and back up at   
her bikini clad form.  
  
"Are we escaping, or going on vacation?" he asked. Miss Parker huffed   
impatiently, lifting her hair of her neck and tying it in a ponytail.  
  
"Just change into the damn shorts Jarod. I'll even turn around if it makes you   
feel any better," she snapped, turning her back on him.  
  
Jarod changed swiftly out of his pants and into the shorts, tapping Parker   
on the shoulder when he was done. Together they hoisted the unconscious guard   
onto the bed, and Jarod snapped the shackle closed around his leg with a grim   
sense of satisfaction. Miss Parker rifled through his jacket pockets, taking   
his gun and his hand held radio, while Jarod did a few stretches.  
  
"Okay, are you ready?" Miss Parker asked, pressing the guard's gun into Jarod's   
hand and taking her own out of the bag. Jarod nodded, and they crept out into   
the corridor quietly.  
  
Jarod stuck close behind Miss Parker as they stole through the compound.   
They paused for a moment when a siren rent the air, but Parker urged him on when   
nobody came running.  
  
"What happened to all the guards?" Jarod whispered. Parker gave him a feral   
grin over her shoulder.  
  
"Can you spell 'poison'?" she said with a snide chuckle, and he frowned.  
  
"You killed them?" he asked, aghast.  
  
"Of course not. Just put them under for awhile," Parker said.  
  
"Oh..." Jarod said softly.   
  
They crept down the length of another corridor, and Jarod startled as a bird   
began shrieking outside the window, quickly joined by more. It was a sound he   
hadn't been able to grow used to over the last few nights, uncomfortable with   
the screaming at both dawn and dusk.  
  
They emerged into the main lobby, and were almost to the door when somebody   
cleared his throat behind them. Jarod froze, but Miss Parker wasted no time,   
whirling around and holding her gun in front of her. Jarod turned slowly,   
raising his gun, not in the least surprised to see Jackson standing there, his   
arms crossed over his chest and smiling with derision.  
  
"Taking the captive out for a swim, Ms Mark?" he asked, raking his eyes over   
Parker's slim and scantily clad figure. Jarod did the same quickly, and   
realised she'd gotten a bit of a tan in the last few days, suggesting she'd   
spent a fair amount of time in the sun.  
  
"I thought I might take Jarod home, Dr Jackson," she said evenly, edging closer.   
Jackson gave her a dangerous and slightly confused grin.  
  
"Home?"  
  
"Back to the Centre, of course."  
  
Jackson looked disbelievingly from Jarod to Miss Parker. "I wouldn't have   
picked you for one of their flunkies, Ms Mark!" he blustered. Parker was now   
close enough to pat him down, and she pulled a small pistol from a holster at   
his side.  
  
"I'm not a flunky," Parker grated, "And my name... is Parker. Miss Parker to   
you."  
  
Jackson paled with recognition of the name, but had no time to say   
anything as she gave him a heavy thump on the back of the neck. The Australian   
doctor crumpled to the floor, and Miss Parker gave Jarod a grim look of   
satisfaction.  
  
"Come on," she muttered.  
  
Just outside the door they stopped, and Jarod inhaled a deep lungful of   
fresh air. Parker tucked both their guns into the waterproof bag, looking over   
her shoulder before leaning in to speak.  
  
"Halfway down the boardwalk is the first of three cameras. Now, I've knocked   
out all the guards in the compound, so nobody would have been watching us move   
through the corridors. However, the feed from the boardwalk cameras is watched   
on a separate part of the island for security reasons. I've been timing them   
the last few days, and if we keep very close together, and you move exactly as I   
tell you, then we can stay out of view, understand?" she said, and Jarod nodded.   
  
Together they dashed up the boardwalk, stopping when Parker raised her   
hand, the entrance to the beach in sight. She stepped to one side of the   
boardwalk, and Jarod searched the surrounding trees until he found what she was   
watching so intently - a camera swivelling from side to side slowly.  
  
"Close... closer..." Miss Parker instructed as Jarod positioned himself directly   
behind her, so soon his chest was brushing her back. She picked up his hands   
with her own and held them to her hips, "Move with me, okay?"  
  
Miss Parker waited until the camera began to move away from them and   
started to count under her breath. Her hands held his in place on her hips, and   
one finger tapped over the top of his rhythmically, in time to her counting.  
  
"Right foot first, ready?" she murmured.  
  
What came next was a strange, complicated dance. They took six steps   
forward, perfectly in time, and stopped, standing almost directly under the   
camera and waiting until it began to swing back towards them. When it was   
pointing back to where they had started again, they moved again. Within the   
range of the second camera, Miss Parker sidestepped them into the centre of the   
boardwalk, into an apparent blind spot between the two.   
  
This slow, perfectly timed mix of stopping and starting lasted for ten minutes,   
and they gradually worked their way to the open beach. Parker counted, and   
Jarod made sure to keep his movements fluidly in time with hers. When they   
finally stepped onto the clean white sand, Jarod let out a soft chuckle of   
delight.  
  
"Is this what you've been doing the last few days?" he asked, wriggling his toes   
happily in the sand.  
  
"Among other things... we don't have much time," Miss Parker said with a smile.   
She seemed to realise she was still holding his hands to her hips, and dropped   
them. Jarod stepped away hastily.  
  
"Lead on, Macbeth."  
  
****  
  
Miss Parker checked her watch as they reached the east side of the island,   
jogging side by side, and looked up at the slowly purpling sky. They didn't   
have much time before the sun went down, so they needed to move quickly. A   
moment later she spotted her marker in one of the trees and stopped, catching   
Jarod by the arm and dragging him to the edge of the forest. She rummaged   
around in the low ferns and foliage until she found what she wanted.  
  
"Help me pull these out," she instructed, and instantly Jarod was by her side,   
helping to lug out several heavy sacks.  
  
They tipped the contents onto the ground, and Jarod laughed aloud. Scuba   
gear. Parker passed him one wetsuit and began to pull on her own. They zipped   
each other up in silence, pulling on their gear and checking each other's   
equipment as quickly as possible. Jarod rubbed de-fog into their facemasks as   
Parker tucked every stray strap and cord away on him, and then herself.  
  
"There's a boat, maybe a mile out. I attached an ultrasonic locator transmitter   
to the boat's anchor, and the receiver will tell us the direction to swim in, so   
you need to stick really close to me. I've got lights for when it gets too   
dark. I'm hoping we'll make it before one of us runs out of air, and because   
I'm trying to streamline as much as possible, we haven't got a Spare Air,"   
Parker said, "I'm assuming you know how to buddy breathe. Do you know all the   
signals?"   
  
Jarod nodded, and they spent a few precious moments running through them. A   
final contribution to the gear they would be carrying was a reef knife with   
ankle straps each and dive lights, which strapped to their wrists for   
safekeeping. Jarod hefted up the last two pieces of equipment with a smile; two   
top of the line underwater scooters.  
  
"Oceanic Mako. This should double our air," he said approvingly. Miss Parker   
nodded.  
  
"But no fun for a surf entry, unfortunately. Are you ready?" she asked. Jarod   
gave a quick nod, passing her one of the scooters and her flippers. As they   
began heading towards the surf, he tilted his head. Parker mimicked the motion   
- over the soft noise of the surf, she could detect the faint buzzing of a   
speedboat and the distant sound of a helicopter.  
  
"Friend or foe?" Jarod asked nervously, pausing to fit his facemask. Parker did   
the same.  
  
"The Centre, I hope. Could be that Jackson regained consciousness, but Daddy   
promised he'd send in some men to shut this place down while we make a getaway,"   
she said. They listened for a few seconds longer, and then continued down the   
beach.  
  
They walked into the warm, gentle waves until they were roughly calf deep,   
and took turns supporting each other while they slipped their flippers on. They   
backed slowly into the surf, bouncing slightly as each wave pushed against them.  
  
"Ready?" Jarod called, once they were chest height. Miss Parker gripped his   
hand for a moment, squeezing tightly. The dive was a dangerous one - to a small   
boat in the middle of nowhere, and she could only hope that their air wouldn't   
run out before they got there. But staying behind would be insane; either of   
them could be hurt or killed in what was surely going to be a bloodbath on   
Laredii Island. Listening closely, she could hear distant shouts on the island   
- whether it was a search or rescue party, they had to get out of sight and away   
from the island. There was no chance of going back now.  
  
"As I'll ever be," Parker called back. They shared a long, intense look, before   
fitting their regulators to their mouths and submerging themselves in the warm   
water.  
  
****  
  
Close to forty minutes later, Jarod checked his air once more. He was   
close to empty, less than 100 psi, and growing increasingly nervous about it,   
although he kept his breathing slow and steady. Keeping his right hand on the   
trigger of his scooter, he tapped Parker to gain her attention, and then tapped   
his wrist. She checked the receiver on her wrist, and held her thumb and finger   
about an inch apart, indicating only a small time left.  
  
Jarod turned his attention back to his scooter, being careful to keep his   
body as straight and streamlined as possible, so there was no drag. He slowed   
his breathing even more, the way he had been taught - inhale slowly, pause   
without closing his airway, and exhale slowly. The less energy he expended   
moving or breathing, the longer his air would last.  
  
A few moments later, Miss Parker tapped his arm to gain his attention,   
pointing to something far ahead. In the dim, fading light, he could just make   
out an anchor line. He gave Parker the okay signal, checking his air once more.   
He was now dangerously low, and cursed the fact that they were more than fifteen   
feet below the surface. Standard safety techniques meant that all divers should   
have a decompression period of approximately five minutes at fifteen feet, yet   
Jarod wasn't sure he had the air.  
  
They reached the anchor line a few minutes later. They turned on their   
lights in the now dark water, slowing their scooters as they got closer, and   
then stopping altogether just a few feet away. They straightened slowly,   
drifting over to the line, Parker catching his attention, and dropping her   
scooter. Jarod did the same, showing her his air, or lack thereof. She nodded,   
unhooking her octopus, the spare air regulator, and passing it to him, showing   
him that she still had enough air for the both of them. Being much smaller and   
lighter, it made sense that Parker wouldn't use as much air as him.  
  
Jarod discarded his regulator, taking the octopus and placing it in his   
mouth. He hit the purge button, and tried to draw a breath. Nothing happened.   
Trying not to panic, Jarod repeated the process, but was unable to draw any air.   
He released it, meeting Parker's eyes and shaking his head. She drew another   
breath, and passed her own regulator to him, pointing up, a sign that they   
should begin to ascend. Jarod nodded his agreement, taking her regulator as she   
breathed out slowly, bubbles rising up and away from her mouth. Jarod took two   
slow breaths, and passed the regulator back.  
  
They began to rise steadily, stopping at fifteen feet when Miss Parker   
indicated. The wait seemed agonising to Jarod, and he kept his gaze trained to   
hers as they passed the regulator slowly back and forth. He recalled all the   
safety tips he had ever learnt and taught about buddy breathing - communication   
was paramount, and as long as neither of them panicked, they should be able to   
ascend to the surface without hassle, even allowing for the five-minute   
decompression.  
  
It got steadily darker, and Jarod fought panic. When Parker passed him   
the regulator again he fumbled, unable to see her hand properly in the dim   
light. He felt her arm sliding around his shoulders, pulling him close as she   
took the regulator again, and he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other   
around the anchor line. When she finished drawing breath, Miss Parker placed   
the regulator directly into his mouth, holding it there until he nodded.  
  
After what seemed like an incredibly long wait, Miss Parker signalled they   
were clear to keep going up. They rose very slowly and steadily, continuing to   
share the air. When his head broke the surface, Jarod gave a sigh of relief.   
Miss Parker dropped the regulator out of her mouth, and for a moment they clung   
to each other, breathing hevily.  
  
"Dump your weight belt," she instructed after a moment, her voice sounding   
unnaturally loud after the quiet in the depths of the ocean, "Dump everything   
but your light, we'll need that. You first, I'll hold you."  
  
Jarod nodded, and Miss Parker steadied him as he dropped both his hands to   
his waist, drawing them together until he found the release catch. The belt   
fell easily away, and Jarod began to undo the rest of his equipment, shedding   
his tank and BC as quickly as he could. He tossed his light into the boat, and   
Miss Parker followed his example, throwing her waterproof bag and her light into   
the boat, slowly shedding her equipment.   
  
Jarod swum to the other side, hoisting himself over the edge of the boat   
as Miss Parker steadied it from the far side. He tumbled into the bottom, and   
lay gasping for air for a minute at the sudden pain in his ribs before sitting   
up. Miss Parker was still clinging to the side, and he helped pull her into the   
boat, trying not to tip it at the same time. She gave a soft groan as she made   
it over the edge, falling heavily on top of Jarod, the boat rocking wildly.  
  
"Sorry," Parker muttered, sitting up. Jarod said nothing, sitting up too.  
  
The boat was tiny, having a small engine and a bench at one end. There   
was enough room in the shallow base for both of them to stretch out if they   
wanted to, but for little else. Jarod grabbed his light, shining it under the   
small bench to see what Parker had stashed under there.  
  
"Three blankets, a spare tank of petrol, some food rations, a first aid kit and   
one flare," Parker said, and presented her back to him, "Can you unzip me?"  
  
One at a time they struggled out of their wetsuits, tossing them   
overboard. They sat facing each other, the moon the only light, panting softly.   
Jarod flicked a glance up at the brilliant spread of stars in the sky.  
  
"It looks different from this side of the world," he said softly, and Miss   
Parker looked up too. Jarod raised a hand, pointing, "Look, there's the   
Southern Cross."  
  
"I have some coordinates for where I'm meeting a Centre boat from Fiji," Miss   
Parker said, digging around in her waterproof bag and drawing out a handheld GPS   
receiver.  
  
"Don't you ever just stop and take a moment?" Jarod asked. Parker paused.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't you ever just..." he shrugged, at a loss for words, "Don't you ever just   
want to stand still? Stop working and stop running and just appreciate the   
beauty around you?"  
  
"I can't afford to-" she began impatiently, but Jarod cut her off.  
  
"You should. There's so much in the world to appreciate, and people get so   
caught up in their problems and their pains, and they can't ever just *stop*, to   
see that they're only a small part of a much bigger picture," Jarod said. He   
took the receiver out of Parker's hands, setting it aside and taking her hands   
with his own.  
  
"Jarod..." Miss Parker said softly.   
  
"Please?" he asked.  
  
"We're still not out of danger yet, and until we are, I simply can't relax," she   
said stiffly. When Jarod remained silent, she gave an impatient sigh, "When we   
get to our destination, okay? We'll take a damn moment and look at the damn   
stars."  
  
****  
  
They skipped over the waves in silence. To her frustration, Miss Parker   
discovered that the little engine had leaked half it's petrol since she had   
anchored the boat the day before. She used the spare tank, but they only got a   
few hours of slow travel before the engine spluttered and died, leaving them   
drifting in the sudden silence. Checking the GPS receiver, she groaned in   
frustration. They were within two miles of the arranged meeting place.   
  
"What now?" Jarod asked. He was barely visible in the silvery moonlight,   
sitting calmly in the centre of the boat.  
  
"Now," Miss Parker said in annoyance, slipping to the floor of the boat and   
rummaging through the supplies stashed under the bench, "We sit and wait to be   
found, by either Laredii of the Centre. We aren't meant to rendezvous until   
dawn, and we're still almost two miles from the meeting place."  
  
"Does this mean we can take our 'damned' moment, then?" Jarod asked, his voice   
warm with amusement, and she threw a water bottle at him. He laughed as it hit,   
scrabbling across the bottom of the boat for it.  
  
Miss Parker dug out some rations, and they sat in companionable silence,   
eating. Jarod chewed noisily on some beef jerky, and Parker elbowed him.  
  
"What was that for?" he asked, mock indignant.  
  
"Because you sound like a horse," she said, and elbowed him again.   
  
Jarod shoved her back, and there was a brief scuffle, where they shoved   
and pushed at each other, chuckling. Parker took him by surprise when she   
launched herself bodily at him, tipping him backwards and landing on top of him.   
They lay still for a moment, breathing heavily.  
  
"Miss Parker-" Jarod began.  
  
"Shut up," Parker said, and kissed him.   
  
Jarod groaned softly, winding his arms around her. Miss Parker parted his   
lips with her tongue, exploring the warm sweet depths hungrily. She ignored the   
warning bells going off in her head, concentrating on the feel of his warm, bare   
skin beneath her.  
  
Jarod kissed her back passionately, threading his hand into her hair and   
rolling them both over, so he hovered over Parker, one of his thighs resting   
between hers. She grasped at his broad, muscular shoulders, and Jarod broke the   
kiss briefly, tilting his head and brushing his mouth across hers for several   
more hot, fleeting kisses. Miss Parker dropped her hands when he drew away   
altogether, and for a moment they lay side by side in the boat in shocked   
silence.  
  
"I think... I think we should forget that happened," Jarod said quietly. Miss   
Parker licked her swollen lips carefully, fighting to regain control.  
  
"Agreed," she murmured.  
  
Miss Parker stared up at the night sky, her breathing slowing down   
gradually. She could see the brilliant spread of the Milky Way above them, and   
a half moon still fairly close to the horizon. Jarod shifted next to her, his   
hip and thigh resting against hers, his shorts still slightly damp.   
  
"Was that, uh, taking a moment?" he asked, sounding weakly amused.  
  
"Ha," Parker said tonelessly. She felt Jarod's hand groping for hers, and he   
squeezed it gently, his thumb brushing across her knuckles.  
  
"There's always been something between us, Miss Parker, and I just wanted to   
say-"  
  
"Don't!" Parker said, snatching her hand out of his, "It was a mistake, Jarod, I   
just got carried away in the moment. You're nothing but a job..." she said, and   
Jarod propped himself up on one elbow beside her.  
  
"Don't start that crap again," he said incredulously, "I stopped being a job to   
you seven years ago, Miss Parker."  
  
"That's when you *became* a job!" she snarled angrily, sitting up and scooting   
away from him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. There was a short   
silence.  
  
"What happened? You saved me, I know that, but what happened to make you hate   
me for so long?" Jarod asked.  
  
Miss Parker shifted unhappily, doubts once again flooding into her mind.   
If Jarod had known all along what was going on, what would be the use in playing   
innocent now?  
  
"Please..." Jarod whispered, and Miss Parker swallowed her pride.  
  
"I was appointed as head of security seven years ago. Johnson, the man who had   
been there before me, was injured in a shootout. I was told there was a company   
known as Specifics attempting to kidnap Pretenders. I worked out that you were   
the main target, and, as you know, Andy came after you and pushed you in the   
pool..." she said thickly. Jarod nodded.  
  
"I remember. That's why I got swimming lessons after I escaped," he said dryly,   
"Go on."  
  
"I neutralised Andy, and got you out of the pool. You weren't breathing, so I   
gave you CPR." She remembered pinching his nose, covering his mouth with her own   
and exhaling her breath into his lungs, "You were just coming around when one of   
my sweepers, Joe, knocked you out again. He was working for Specifics. We   
fought... and I stabbed him. He managed to get one shot off," Miss Parker said,   
wiping the tears from her cheeks and self-consciously touching the scar on her   
shoulder, "I found out later I'd pierced one of his lungs with the tip of the   
blade. He bled to death, and I just... I just kept twisting the knife."  
  
"Oh God..." Jarod whispered. He made a move towards Parker, but she flinched   
away.  
  
"The Centre owned Specifics... it was a test. All of it, to see if I was worthy   
for my position, if I would be loyal to the Centre no matter what," she choked   
out.  
  
"I don't understand..." Jarod said, and she let out a soft, bitter cry.  
  
"Daddy told me all about it. It was *your* simulation, Jarod. That damn test   
came out of your head, and I killed a man for it! You probably knew what was   
going on the whole time!" she growled. Jarod sat back, obviously shocked.  
  
Miss Parker scrubbed at her eyes angrily, glad that Jarod couldn't see her   
face. They sat in an awkward silence, and she could practically hear his mind   
ticking over.  
  
"I did it... must be almost twenty years ago," Jarod said softly, "A simulation   
to design the best possible way for a large corporation to pick a suitable   
security head. Run the candidate through a drill situation to see how they   
react under pressure, almost military in it's execution. Several of the   
scenarios suggested were bomb threats, break and enter... and hostage and kidnap   
situations."  
  
"Yeah, I'm on intimate terms with that last one," Miss Parker said bitterly.  
  
"The point was that it was a *drill*. The candidate was to be aware of what was   
going on at all times... and I never thought it would be used to hurt anyone."  
  
"It wasn't. *I* was," she murmured. Jarod reached out, grabbing her wrists and   
pulling her towards him despite her struggles, so they were face to face.  
  
"You know I wouldn't have done this. You know I wouldn't have - I had no idea   
what was going on at the time! I woke up in Infirmary, and Sydney told me a   
mystery sweeper had saved me, I never knew about Joe," he said earnestly. Miss   
Parker searched his eyes, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach telling   
her he was being honest.  
  
"I killed a man..." she said feebly.  
  
"You did what you needed to," Jarod said softly, "And you believed you were   
saving me. Thankyou for that."  
  
Miss Parker took a deep, heaving gulp of air, and then her face crumpled.   
Jarod drew her into his arms as she began to sob, stroking her back gently. It   
was the condolences and comfort she had needed for seven years - what her father   
had never provided.  
  
****  
  
After midnight, they lay side by side in the bottom of the boat. When   
Parker had stopped crying they had used two of the blankets as a makeshift   
mattress, tucking the third and final blanket over both of them to keep warm,   
although it wasn't really needed on the warm summer night. They lay gazing up   
at the stars quietly, their hands clasped together under the blanket.  
  
"It's like a place out of time. A boat in the middle of the ocean, with just   
the moon and stars for company," Jarod said softly, and heard Parker chuff with   
quiet laughter.  
  
"If you tell anyone I cried on your shoulder, I'll castrate you," she said, and   
Jarod chuckled.  
  
"So what happens when they come for us?" he asked a short while later, sobering.  
  
"I go back to being Miss Parker of the Centre, and you go back to being an   
insolent lab rat," Parker said evenly. Jarod squeezed her hand.  
  
"I'll escape at the first opportunity, you know that, don't you?" he asked.  
  
"I know. And then it's back to the status quo - you run, I chase."  
  
Jarod was silent for a long time, listening to the soft sounds of their   
breathing. Miss Parker shifted, turning onto her side with her body facing him,   
nestling in sleepily. Jarod smiled at the exotic picture she made - her long   
hair had dried in loose waves around her face, and the tan she had acquired gave   
her skin a golden gleam.  
  
"It's so beautiful out here," he said.  
  
"Are we appreciating the moment?" Parker asked.  
  
"Don't you know?"  
  
"Answering a question with a question - you've been hanging out with Sydney for   
too long. And no, I don't know. You're the one who was talking about this   
'moment' crap in the first place," she said, closing her eyes.   
  
"You move through life too quickly, Miss Parker, you need to slow down once in a   
while. Stop-"  
  
"And smell the roses?" Parker interrupted.   
  
"Yes, among other things. Watch the stars, enjoy a cup of fine coffee, listen   
to a beautiful opera..." Jarod said.  
  
"There's a notable lack of divas around the Centre," Miss Parker said dryly.  
  
"Stop being obtuse, you know what I mean. I mean, I'm the one on the run, and   
you're the one that's constantly moving," Jarod said, gesturing expansively,   
"There are so many perfect moments in life, so many individual and isolated   
moments of pure, undefined beauty, and most people are too busy checking their   
watch to notice."  
  
"Uh huh," Parker agreed sleepily. Jarod contemplated the stars, thinking hard.  
  
"If you could just recognise and capture one moment of unsolicited happiness, it   
would stay with you the rest of your life..." he trailed off, realising that   
Miss Parker wasn't listening; she had fallen asleep.  
  
Tenderly, Jarod brushed a lock of hair off her face, then lay back and   
stared up at the glittering panorama of the Milky Way. The night had been   
interesting, to say the least. First their escape from Laredii Island, and then   
Jarod's empty air tank at the end of the dive, the fuel running out, the kiss   
and then the fight. The kiss... Jarod touched his mouth. It was crazy, and   
they both knew the risks. Agreeing to pretend it had never happened was the   
best thing they could possibly do. It would be suicide for either of them to   
their get emotions involved.  
  
But, hell, the woman sure could kiss.   
  
****  
  
A splash and the wild rocking of the boat awoke Jarod. He sat up in   
confusion, blinking in the early morning light. The boat was empty. Jarod   
looked around quickly, peering out at the flat water, leaning over the edge to   
look into the ocean's depths. A fluid blur was heading towards him, and Jarod   
jumped as it surfaced just in front of his face.  
  
"Morning," Miss Parker said, grabbing onto the edge with one hand and pushing   
her wet hair back with the other. Jarod blinked in surprise.  
  
"Good morning," he said warmly. It was apparent that the emotion of the night   
before was gone.  
  
"Come on in, water's fine," she said, and Jarod hesitated, judging from the   
position of the sun that it wasn't long past dawn.  
  
"Won't the Centre boat be looking for us?" he asked, and Parker shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, but they won't find us for a while. We drifted almost a mile north   
during the night, I'd say we have a couple of hours yet."  
  
"What if the boat drifts?" Jarod asked. He was tempted; the morning was hot   
already.  
  
"Drop the anchor, the water isn't very deep. We're right next to a sandbar,"   
Parker said, rolling her eyes impatiently.  
  
Jarod bit his lip, and then pulled the small anchor from under the bench   
where it had been stashed, and dropped it overboard. Parker grinned, pushing   
off the edge and floating away on her back. Jarod stood up, trying not to rock   
the boat too much, took a deep breath, and dived into the water.  
  
It was cool and refreshing, and Jarod rolled onto his back, opening his   
eyes and allowing himself to sink. He could hold his breath for close to three   
and a half minutes before it got uncomfortable. The water was clear and blue,   
the sunshine playing across it, and he could see Miss Parker's blurry figure   
getting closer to him. He spread his arms out as she swam down to him, her blue   
eyes opened, her hair swirling around her face. He reached out, touching the   
tip of his finger to her nose, startling slightly as a school of fat silver-blue   
fish swam past them, and she parted her lips and grinned at him, a broad grin of   
pure pleasure.  
  
Needing air, Jarod raised his face towards the sun and kicked strongly,   
arrowing up, Miss Parker doing the same. They broke the surface and drew   
breath, both treading water. They were a few feet away from the boat, and he   
flicked some water at Parker. She flicked some back, took a breath and dived   
again.  
  
Jarod followed, kicking hard so they were close to the bottom and the   
reef. Beautiful tropical fish of all colours swam around them, not in the least   
afraid. Parker touched his arm, pointing at a giant turtle, close to three feet   
long, swimming in the distance. They stared around at the beautiful coral   
constructions beneath them, fish darting in and around the delicate reef.  
  
Feeling his chest was about to burst, Jarod headed up to the surface,   
gasping for air. Miss Parker came up a moment after him, panting. She pointed   
to the north of them, where the water appeared to be shallower.  
  
"Meet you at the sandbar," she said.  
  
Jarod broke out into a strong stroke, Parker beside him, and it didn't   
take long for them to reach the sand bar. They sat for a moment, the water only   
a foot deep, enjoying the sun on their backs. Miss Parker pulled her hair into   
her fist and twisted the water out of it. Jarod tilted his head back and   
sighed.  
  
"This is paradise," he said softly.  
  
"Here's your moment, Jarod," Miss Parker said mildly.  
  
They floated on their backs peacefully for a while, drifting carelessly in   
the perfect blue sea, occasionally bumping legs or arms. Jarod relished his   
freedom, feeling that this soak in the ocean was a way of washing off all the   
pain and frustration of the months spent inside Laredii's compound, and enjoyed   
the peace that had fallen between him and Parker.  
  
He knew, of course, that soon enough the Centre would be there to take him   
back, but he wasn't worried. It was a long trip from the Australian coast back   
to America, and was reasonably confidant that it wouldn't be long before he   
found an opportunity for escape.  
  
He considered briefly what Parker had told him the night before. He   
wasn't surprised that his simulation had been used for nefarious purposes, but   
that didn't help residual feelings of guilt. It wasn't strangers that had been   
hurt this time, it was his childhood friend, and the events had caused years of   
bitterness and misunderstandings between them.  
  
Jarod knew that Miss Parker believed him when he said he hadn't known what   
was going on - she had probably known it in her heart for a long time, but   
decades of believing her father to be above reproach was a hard habit to break.   
And just because Jarod had undone one wrong against her, it didn't mean they   
could go back to being best friends again. A lot had happened in the last seven   
years, and it was difficult for either of them to trust again.  
  
But it was a step in the right direction, at least.  
  
**** 


	4. Part 4

They were lying side by side in the boat again, almost an hour later, when   
Miss Parker heard a faint roaring noise. She sat up, being careful not to knock   
Jarod, who was dozing, and searched the horizon. There, far off, she could see   
a boat, speeding towards them. Hurriedly she grabbed her waterproof bag,   
drawing out her gun.  
  
"Wake up, Jarod," she hissed, and he opened his eyes, blinking sleepily.  
  
"What?" he mumbled, and she gave his leg a shove.  
  
"Boat," she muttered. It was drawing closer, and she could see it was quite a   
big one, a mini-cruiser, almost 100 feet long.  
  
Jarod sat up, ignoring her gun, and they both watched as the yacht drew   
closer and closer. Miss Parker searched it for signs that it was the one they   
had been waiting for, and not some rich tourists.  
  
It created waves as it approached, and they gripped the sides of their tin   
skip to ride the sudden swells. It stopped, still a fair distance from them,   
and a few moments later a small inflatable raft was lowered into the water,   
bouncing over the waves towards them, several dark suited men visible.  
  
"That's Centre all right," Parker said, standing up carefully and holding her   
gun on Jarod. The raft pulled up beside them, Willie and Lyle sitting in it.   
Willie immediately drew his gun on Jarod.  
  
"You're three miles away from the meeting point," Lyle called, looking cool,   
calm and collected in a light suit and sunglasses. Parker eyed him dangerously.  
  
"We had a few problems," she said, "Get in the raft, Jarod."  
  
Jarod said nothing, his face dark and ominous. Carefully he stepped from   
the skip to the raft, sitting down. Lyle slapped some cuffs on his wrists, and   
Jarod gave him a dark look. Lyle ignored it, holding a hand out to help Parker   
onto the raft.  
  
They abandoned the little tin skip, bouncing across the waves to the   
enormous yacht. Miss Parker admired it as they drew closer, it was certainly a   
beauty - it had to be worth three or four million at least. They cruised in   
beside it and were raised up onto the deck, where Sam, Broots and Sydney were   
waiting for them.   
  
On deck, Miss Parker stood awkwardly next to a sullen Jarod. It seemed   
like a hundred years since she had last seen Sydney or Broots - three months at   
least, they hadn't made contact while she stayed in the St Louis, except brief   
phone calls for information. She had worked so hard for the last few months to   
save Jarod, had spent the last eighteen hours stuck alone with him, and was now   
having problems relating to the role she was expected to step into - the   
victorious huntress, finally delivering her prey.  
  
"So, a night alone on a boat... whatever did you two do to keep yourselves   
occupied?" Lyle asked mockingly, running his eyes over both of them.  
  
Parker was sure hey made an interesting sight. Jarod was now tanned from   
a morning in the harsh Australian sun, wearing only a pair of shorts, still   
looking rough from his recent beating. Her tan was even deeper than Jarod's,   
her long hair dried tangled around her face, only the skimpiest of bikinis on   
and carrying a gun. She and Jarod shared a long, passive look.  
  
"That... you'll never know, Lyle," Miss Parker said, and he brother frowned   
angrily.  
  
"Are you all right, Jarod?" Sydney asked, looking amused. Jarod raised his   
cuffed hands, touched the cut on his neck briefly, shrugged and nodded.  
  
"I've been better," he said grimly.  
  
"Miss Parker, you should hear what's happened at Laredii Island!" Broots said   
breathlessly. Parker held up her hand.  
  
"Save it until I've had a meal, a shower and at least ten hours sleep, Broots,"   
she growled, and looked at her brother, "I'm assuming this toy boat of yours can   
provide all of the above?"  
  
Lyle nodded, "Willie, take Jarod. This way, Parker."  
  
He led her to a spacious room with a double bed, a sofa, a bar and it's   
own private bathroom. Lyle even had some clothes waiting for her, and he smiled   
with sardonic amusement as she gazed around the luxurious fittings with bliss.  
  
"Need any help washing your back?" he asked, and Parker felt a wave of disgust.  
  
"I'll be fine. Don't you have a Pretender to keep an eye on? I didn't go to   
all this effort just so you can let him escape again," she said sweetly, and   
Lyle's jaw tightened; he left the room without another word.  
  
Miss Parker stood under the spray of the shower for half an hour, allowing   
the water to wash away all the salt, fear and emotion of the last twenty-four   
hours. Now that she was safe, she didn't really give a damn what had happened   
on Laredii Island, but supposed she'd probably have to suffer a debriefing   
later.  
  
When she stepped out of the shower, she knew she looked at a different   
woman in the mirror than the one she had looked at one month ago. Hell,   
different from the one she had looked at one day ago. She had spent time alone   
with Jarod, had a civilized conversation with him, slept beside him and even,   
god forbid, kissed him.   
  
She was forced to realise that she had to give away her basis for hating   
him all this time. Jarod had been just a much a victim of that test seven years   
ago as she had. His work, which he had believed to be for good, had been used   
against him, against both of them. She knew that now, and if she were honest   
with herself, known it for years. Seven years ago she had been distant enough   
from Jarod to believe her father when he placed the blame on the Pretender. She   
wasn't distant now.  
  
Parker dressed, putting on the cool blue suit, pinning her hair up neatly,   
applying a layer of makeup and donning some dark sunglasses. This time when she   
found her way out onto the deck she looked cold and professional. Sydney joined   
her there after a few moments later, leaning on the rail and watching some   
dolphins chasing the yacht, leaping out of the water playfully.  
  
"We're going to sail down to the Sunshine Coast and book into a hotel while the   
necessary paperwork is arranged," Sydney said quietly.  
  
"How are we getting him back to the States?" Miss Parker asked. She had focused   
so long on getting off the island that she'd never really thought about what   
would happen afterwards. Sydney grinned.  
  
"Haven't you heard? Jarod is a dangerous criminal, and we are a private   
security company hired by the United States government to track him down. We're   
extraditing him," Syd said, and chuckled. Parker smiled slightly.  
  
"He'll like that."  
  
There was a short silence as they gazed at the horizon, before Sydney   
spoke again, "He knows, doesn't he?"  
  
"Yes," she said, "Not the whole story, but he knew it was me."  
  
"There was a certain... softening, in his attitude towards you, a few months   
after he escaped. After he gave you the flu and glued you to the floor, I   
believe. I gathered that he must have figured it out," Syd said. Parker was   
surprised at his insight.  
  
"He sent me a bunny rabbit," she said, remembering that lonely Christmas when   
the only two presents she had received were her father's rejection and the soft,   
white bunny rabbit from Jarod.  
  
"He's given you a lot over the years," Sydney murmured meaningfully, watching   
her closely. She smiled, knowing that he was searching for some sign of how   
hard she was going to try to keep Jarod from escaping.  
  
"We've reached an understanding," Parker said, and Sydney smiled.  
  
****  
  
Jarod suffered the humiliation of Willie and Sam standing in the bathroom   
with him while he showered, and put on the chinos and shirt laid out for him   
without comment. He was escorted to a lounge area where Lyle was on the phone,   
pushed down into a soft sofa and chained to the floor. Jarod examined the bolt   
that his shackles and chains were hooked to with interest - trust the Centre to   
own a luxury yacht with all the attributes of a medieval dungeon.  
  
Broots was sitting in the corner, nervously working on a laptop and trying   
not to look at Jarod. A moment later Sydney and Miss Parker entered the room,   
sitting across from him. There was no sign of the warmth and friendship in Miss   
Parker that he had seen on the boat; instead she looked as cool and   
sophisticated as ever. As Lyle finished his call, a man in a crisp uniform   
brought in a tray of cheese, crackers and fruit, and a bottle of chilled   
champagne. Jarod eyed the food hungrily.  
  
"Our father sends his congratulations," Lyle said, dropping into a seat   
carelessly. Jarod leaned forward at the same time as Miss Parker to grab some   
food, and their hands brushed. They both drew back quickly, something Lyle   
didn't miss.  
  
"He's well, I hope?" Parker said without emotion. They both picked up some food   
and sat back.  
  
"Of course. He's glad you got Jarod out safely."  
  
Jarod gritted his teeth in fury, hating Mr Parker for what he was doing to   
his daughter. He didn't say, 'Glad you got out safely,' or, 'Glad you and Jarod   
got out safely,' he gave no sign that he even really cared for his daughter at   
all. And by the way Miss Parker was frozen in place, the fruit raised halfway   
to her mouth, she had felt her father's unintended slight.  
  
"But now, I think, it's time for a celebration," Lyle said jovially, cracking   
the bottle of champagne and pouring several glasses, "I'd offer you a glass   
Jarod, but that would be rather rude considering it's your capture we're   
celebrating."  
  
Jarod ignored him, concentrating instead on filling his stomach. Miss   
Parker accepted a glass, as did a grim Sydney. Lyle raised his glass in toast   
and they drank silently.  
  
Miss Parker ate only a little more before making her excuses, hurrying out   
of the room with her head down. Jarod had almost eaten his full when Lyle   
turned his attention back to him, a gleam in his eye.  
  
"Come on Jarod, sleepy time. And don't think you can pull the same stunt twice   
- it's a needle for you this time," Lyle said, referring to Jarod's short   
incarceration in the Centre months ago.   
  
"Lyle, is that really necessary?" Sydney protested.  
  
"Of course. I don't want him waking up until we're safely at the hotel   
tonight," Lyle said, jerking Jarod to his feet by his chains. Jarod smiled   
sadly at the psychiatrist.  
  
"It's okay, Sydney," he said reassuringly, before Lyle pushed him out of the   
room.  
  
Jarod was led to a luxurious stateroom, with many heavy-duty locks on the   
door. The only windows we portholes - too small for Jarod to even think about   
escaping from. There were cameras in every corner of the room, and a tray with   
a needle waiting. A chain attached to his shackles was hooked to the floor,   
allowing him to sit or lie fairly comfortably on the bed.  
  
Jarod had already decided he wouldn't attempt to escape until he was back   
on the mainland - it would be easier to disappear amongst people. In the   
meantime, he would just have to sit tight and try not to get beaten up by Lyle   
or any of the sweepers.  
  
"So," Lyle said, jerking Jarod's sleeve up in preparation for the needle, "Did   
you fuck her?"  
  
Jarod glowered at the man, hating the sadistic look in Lyle's eye. How   
could he be so perverted as to openly lust after his sister? "That's not a   
question worth answering, you sick bastard," he ground out angrily. Lyle jabbed   
the needle into his arm viciously.  
  
"Oh, come now Jarod, it's just us guys... tell me - did you melt the ice?"  
  
Jarod could feel the drug taking effect already, a wave of dizziness   
passing over him as he lay back on the bed, smiling sardonically at Lyle.  
  
"I'll always be a job to Miss Parker, Lyle, but that's a step up from being scum   
on the bottom of her shoe like you are," Jarod slurred, and passed out.  
  
****  
  
They docked early in the evening, taking a limousine from the marina to   
their hotel, perhaps half an hour away. Miss Parker sat next to Jarod, Lyle,   
Sydney and Broots across from her. She felt the moment the man next to her   
awakened, although he gave no outwardly visible sign of it. He tensed slightly,   
just enough of an indication for her to realise he was aware of his   
surroundings.  
  
"How will we get Jarod into the hotel?" Miss Parker asked, and Lyle frowned.  
  
"He should be awake soon. You two will be handcuffed together, I want you to   
stand close, keep the handcuffs out of view - we don't need a scandal. I'll   
check in, and you'll come inside and just go straight to the elevator," he said   
smoothly, passing her a key to Jarod's cuffs. Jarod chose that moment to   
'regain consciousness,' stirring slightly and opening his eyes. Lyle leered at   
him, "Just in time Jarod, we've reached the hotel."  
  
Broots and Sydney trailed after Lyle into reception, leaving Miss Parker   
and Jarod alone in the car. Gently she took his hands, undoing one of the   
bracelets and attaching it to her own wrist. When she went to pull her hands   
away Jarod held them. When she met his gaze, it was warm, but strained.  
  
"Be careful of Lyle, Miss Parker," he rasped quietly, "He gets more dangerous   
everyday - and he wants you."  
  
She nodded, pulling her hands free. A moment later Lyle rapped on the   
window and they stepped out, Jarod somewhat stiffly. Parker   
gave her brother the key to the handcuffs, and he gave Jarod a warning look.  
  
"Play along, Jarod, or you'll find out just how uncomfortable I can make this   
trip."  
  
Parker and Jarod held hands as they went inside, walking quite close   
together, so the handcuffs that joined them were hardly noticeable. They looked   
for all the world like a wealthy couple holidaying at a beach resort, and none   
of the hotel staff gave them a second glance as they crossed the foyer and   
entered the elevator. They dropped hands once inside the car, and Miss Parker   
raised her face to watch the numbers light up slowly. She was tired, having   
slept very little the day spent on the boat, and wanted only a drink and a bed.  
  
The suite they were staying in was luxurious, with magnificent ocean   
views, and took up half the top floor. It had four bedrooms, three bathrooms   
and a lounge, kitchen and dining area. Lyle went immediately to make a call,   
while Miss Parker and Jarod sat on the couch under Sam and Willie's watchful   
gaze. Broots emerged from one of the bedrooms a moment later.  
  
"Sydney's taking a shower - this place is huge!" the techie exclaimed, and   
Parker put a hand to her head, feeling a headache coming on.  
  
"Get me something toxic to drink, Broots, and turn on the lights, it's getting   
dark," she said tiredly. She could hear Lyle getting angry on the phone.  
  
Broots fetched her a glass of scotch, and went to the switches on one   
wall, looking confused when he realised they flipped the other way in Australia.   
Jarod seemed miserable, slouching back into the couch, and Miss Parker could   
feel a steady throb beginning at the back of her skull.  
  
"I want those papers as soon as possible, do you understand? We're sitting   
ducks here," Lyle said angrily, and slammed the phone down. Parker assumed he   
was talking about the extradition papers for Jarod, and idly wondered if the   
Pretender would be around for long enough to need them. She doubted it.  
  
"Can you undo these cuffs, Lyle? I want to go to bed," she growled. Lyle   
tossed her the key, and Willie stepped forward with some more shackles for   
Jarod.  
  
"Aren't you going to take a shift guarding Jarod?" Lyle asked as she stood, and   
she gave him a cold look.  
  
"My shift lasted for three months. You can take it from here. Goodnight."  
  
****  
  
Parker awoke at the sound of a heavy thump. She raised her head, feeling   
dazed and confused, trying to get her bearings in the unfamiliar room. It was   
one of the bedrooms in the suite, she realised, and clutched her gun under the   
pillow. When the door cracked open, she sat up, holding her weapon in front of   
her and clicking the safety off. A figure slipped quietly into the room, and   
the door closed again, leaving them in darkness. She heard the soft sound of   
footsteps coming towards her.  
  
"Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you," Miss Parker growled. There was a gentle   
chuff of amusement.  
  
"Because the Australian government doesn't take kindly to people shooting up   
hotel rooms," Jarod said quietly. She tried to track his movement in the room,   
aiming her gun where she thought he was.  
  
"I went to a lot of trouble to get you off Laredii Island - what makes you think   
I'm going to let you go now?" she asked. He was beside the bed, she guessed,   
and a moment later felt a pressure on the tip of her gun, his chest, perhaps?  
  
"I told you back on the island, Miss Parker... you *like* me," Jarod said, and   
chuckled.   
  
Miss Parker hesitated a moment, and then loosened her grip on the butt of her   
gun, allowing it to dangle from her finger by the trigger guard. His hand   
closed over it, taking it and setting it aside as he sat down on the bed beside   
her. She could sense his presence; detect the faint scent of soap and salt on   
him.  
  
"What happened to Lyle and the sweepers?" she asked wryly.  
  
"They met with an unfortunate accident - and got a taste of their own medicine.   
They should be out for the next few hours," Jarod said.  
  
"And Sydney and Broots?"  
  
"Sleeping safe and sound; locked in their room. You might want to let them out   
later, but don't bother waking them for now," he said. Parker smiled, although   
she knew he couldn't see it in the darkness.  
  
"This is it, Jarod," she said softly, "You go tonight, and our truce is over, we   
go back to the way it's always been. You run, I chase."  
  
"I understand," Jarod said solemnly. There was a short silence, thick with   
tension, and then he fumbled across the bed until he found her hand, picking it   
up and squeezing, "About what happened on the boat..."  
  
"Jarod, it was heat of the moment-" Parker burst out, flushing.  
  
"I wasn't referring to that," Jarod interrupted, laughing, "I was talking   
about... about what happened seven years ago. The test."  
  
"Oh," Miss Parker said, embarrassed.  
  
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. It should never have happened... but I'm glad   
you saved me. I'm glad you helped me," he said, his voice thickening with   
emotion.  
  
Parker felt slightly uncomfortable, not wanting Jarod to feel indebted to   
her in any way. Seven years of blaming him for the blood on her hands didn't   
just melt away overnight. She drew her hand out of his, signalling the moment   
was over.  
  
"I can't tell Lyle I just let you walk out of here," she said, somewhat briskly,   
and he sighed heavily.  
  
"I know. I don't want to use their drugs on you," Jarod said helplessly.   
Parker reached out, flicking on the bedside lamp, and they both blinked   
painfully. Jarod's hair was scruffy, and he needed a shave. He looked down at   
the low-cut bodice of Parker's nightgown, and snapped his gaze back up to hers   
quickly, blushing.  
  
"Hit me," she commanded, and he blinked.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Hit me," Miss Parker said again, "You dropped the sweepers, and the noise woke   
me up. I went out to investigate but you were waiting for me as I came out the   
door - knocked me down, took my gun and ran out before I could do anything."  
  
Jarod looked uncomfortable. "I don't want to hit you," he said   
plaintively. She glared at him, and he sighed, "Okay, stand up."  
  
He rose from the edge of the bed, and Miss Parker threw back the blankets   
and climbed to her feet, retrieving a robe and belting it around her waist. She   
took a deep breath as Jarod regarded her, seeming almost apologetic in advance.   
  
"Okay," she said, and braced herself.  
  
Jarod flexed his right arm in agitation, a pained look on his face. He   
took a deep breath and grimaced, raised his fist and hit her.  
  
"Oh Christ!" Parker hissed, stumbling away, her jaw seeming to radiate pain.   
Jarod was by her side in a moment, pulling her face up.  
  
"Here, let me see," Jarod whispered roughly, and probed the tender area with his   
fingertips as she hissed with pain, "You're going to have one hell of a bruise.   
I split your lip too, I'm sorry."  
  
Jarod pulled his hand back to show her the shiny blood on his fingers, and   
Parker ran her tongue over her rapidly swelling lip, tasting blood. He winced,   
and she smiled weakly, knowing he couldn't have hit her with anything near his   
full strength; it was just her bad luck he packed a hell of a punch even when he   
wasn't trying.  
  
"You'll need to put ice on it," Jarod said worriedly, and she brushed his hands   
away.  
  
"And you need to get out of here," she murmured. She took her gun from where   
he'd set it, tucking it into the waistband of his pants and pulling his shirt   
over it, "Now go."  
  
"Okay," Jarod said, and didn't move.  
  
"The truce is over, Jarod," Miss Parker whispered, ignoring his slight flinch at   
her words, "You run, I chase."  
  
"Let me just say goodbye to Ms Mark then, I liked her," Jarod murmured softly.  
  
He raised his hand again, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her   
close. Parker's eyes widened, thinking he was going to kiss her bruised and   
torn mouth, but he threaded his fingers into her hair, gently pulling her head   
back, exposing her neck. Jarod's mouth brushed tenderly, intimately, against   
her throat, his tongue flicking out to touch her fluttering pulse.  
  
"Goodbye Ms Mark," Jarod murmured huskily, and went.  
  
Long after he was gone, Miss Parker remained staring after him, one hand   
touched to her bruised mouth, the other to the spot where Jarod had kissed her   
so briefly.  
  
  
Four weeks later  
  
  
Jarod sat on the Southbank promenade at a small café, overlooking the   
Yarra River and watching the world go by. In the four weeks since his escape he   
had travelled down Australia, out of Queensland and into New South Wales and   
finally into Victoria, stopping wherever he wanted for a few days. He liked the   
broad expanses of Australia, the rough beauty - sitting on a bus he could ride   
seven hours without seeing anything more than a few farmhouses and tiny shopping   
communities.  
  
He liked Melbourne. It was a tiny city in comparison to some of the   
massive ones he had spent time in the States, but it had it's own uncanny charm.   
The strangely beautiful and muddy Yarra River ran through it, and it was a city   
of arts and food and culture. Jarod had eaten just about every type of food he   
could imagine in Melbourne, been to the opera, had seen ambiguous and artistic   
plays in places that barely passed for theatres.   
  
What Jarod liked best, he had decided, was the café culture. Coffee   
seemed to be a way of life here, and it allowed him to sit for hours at a time,   
sipping exotic Turkish coffee, or a fine Italian blend, people watching. After   
months of isolation, it was just what he needed.  
  
Turning his face briefly up to the afternoon sun, Jarod took out his cell   
phone, dialling slowly. He hadn't had any contact with the Centre since his   
escape, and knew that Sydney would be worrying about him.  
  
"Sydney here," the psychiatrist answered.  
  
"Isn't it a little late for you to be at the Centre still?" Jarod asked, and the   
older man chuckled warmly.  
  
"Jarod... I was beginning to think you'd gone for good," he said.  
  
"Just taking some time off," Jarod said.  
  
"Well deserved I think... Laredii didn't treat you too badly, I hope?"  
  
"Nothing I couldn't handle," Jarod said, frowning. His strained ribs had given   
him the odd pain over the last few weeks, but it was nothing worth mentioning,   
"Asides from a little cabin fever. I'm glad Miss Parker came along when she   
did. Is her jaw okay?"  
  
"It was a nice purple colour for a week or two, but it healed well... you could   
have broken it if you *really* tried," Sydney said knowingly. Jarod smiled   
briefly, lifting the newspaper in front of him and running his finger across a   
small article.  
  
"Laredii Island has been donated to the world heritage foundation by a private   
corporation, I see," he said.  
  
"Yes, Laredii has been dismantled, both Island and Industries," Sydney said,   
"They're competition we couldn't afford. You're lucky Miss Parker got you out   
when she did - Cleaners discovered your files, their next intention was to   
dissect you."  
  
Jarod made a non-committal noise, sipping his latte. Laredii's intentions   
had never come across as straightforward; their approach had been wrong from the   
beginning, as if they weren't working terribly hard to figure him out at all.   
He had concluded that it was more of an attempt to wound the Centre than to   
replicate the Pretender Project.   
  
"Are you back in America?" Sydney asked.   
  
"Of course, I got back as soon as possible," Jarod lied, and knew from Sydney's   
soft snort that the psychiatrist didn't believe him. He grinned, "And how are   
the terrible twins?"  
  
"Lyle is in hot water with the Triumvirate for letting you escape after they   
went to such lengths to retrieve you. Miss Parker is also blaming him, quite   
publicly and on a regular basis," Sydney said mildly.  
  
"She needs to be more careful around him," Jarod said, frowning, and Syd sighed.  
  
"I know. But she believes herself to be invincible, as ever."  
  
"Do you... do you think it's possible to change the past, Sydney?" Jarod asked   
softly, "Change the mistakes that were made?"  
  
"No, Jarod. But by learning from the past, then perhaps you can alter the   
future."  
  
Jarod ended the call thoughtfully. In his mind's eye he pictured Miss   
Parker, her eyes open in the perfect blue sea as they drifted together, her hair   
a silken cloud around her face, grinning. Them lying side by side under the   
brilliant night sky, watching the stars. It had been such a strange night, the   
enforced intimacy between them almost a tangible thing.  
  
Draining the last of his coffee, Jarod dropped a few coins on the table   
and headed back to the hotel. He had one more phone call to make.  
  
****  
  
At midnight, Miss Parker arrived home. She had stayed in the office   
longer than usual, re-reading the report of what had happened on Laredii Island   
once they had escaped. It had been a veritable blood bath.   
  
Laredii's guards had awakened just as Centre employed thugs had descended   
on them, having neutralised most of the Laredii personnel on the mainland.   
There had been much fighting, much blood shed on both sides, before the Centre   
had finally secured the compound. Jackson had been found in the surveillance   
room, having cut his own throat rather than face interrogation.   
  
Cleaners had arrived when the island was completely secured; employing   
many techniques that Miss Parker had initiated to rid the island of any damning   
evidence, disposing of bodies and gathering all information pertaining to   
Laredii's offices in both St Louis and London. Over the last few weeks they had   
dismantled both, the island compound was destroyed and the island itself   
disposed of - not deemed useful to the Centre considering how easily they had   
compromised it's security.  
  
Parker slapped the file onto the console by the door, shedding her jacket   
and shoes and rolling her head, trying to relieve the stiffness in her neck. It   
had been a long day, with yet more meetings with her father as he pressured her   
to find some sign of Jarod. The chase was on again.  
  
She'd had little time to adjust to the sudden change in environment and   
identity - it was if she had never left, never spent those three months in St   
Louis under the name of Lila Mark. The only difference was her father's   
attitude to Lyle. He no longer held his status as the beloved prodigal son   
returned, but instead found his name was mud to his father, for allowing Jarod   
to escape.  
  
Her father had sent Lyle to retrieve both Miss Parker and Jarod, and   
seemed to deem that her close contact with Jarod had made her mentally   
incompetent for a brief period of time, as if the Pretender's influence would   
leave her stupefied, which suited her just fine. Her nerves had been stretched   
tight after three months of undercover work and a harrowing escape, not to   
mention the fact that by the time Lyle picked them up she'd only had about four   
hours sleep in roughly forty hours. The fact that her father was benignly   
taking that into consideration and subsequently laying the blame at Lyle's feet   
pleased her no end.  
  
Pouring herself a glass of scotch, Miss Parker sipped carefully. Of   
course, her father's considerate mood had worn off once Jarod had failed to make   
an appearance as he usually did. She wondered idly where he was, still in   
Australia, or had he returned to home soil? She could imagine him travelling   
around Australia, helping those in need; discovering the culture and the quirks   
of another country.  
  
Eventually he'd come back. His family was in the United States, and he'd   
be back to look for them. In the meantime she wasn't fussed, let him have his   
moment of freedom.  
  
"Taking the moment," she murmured aloud, and smiled slightly, remembering his   
philosophical rambling on the boat as she hit the flashing message on her   
answering machine. 'There are so many perfect moments in life, so many   
individual and isolated moments of pure, undefined beauty,' he had said.  
  
Miss Parker frowned as soft music began filtering into the room, and   
turned up the volume on her answering machine. It was singing, a beautiful   
opera, Vide Cor Meum if she guessed it correctly. It was inspiring music, both   
hopeful and touchingly poignant, the lyrics taken from Dante's La Vita Nuova.   
The song ended, and Parker raised a trembling hand to touch her chest, just over   
her heart.  
  
"Io sono in pace, Vide cor meum," she murmured, repeating the last words of the   
song. 'I am in peace, see my heart.'  
  
The message ended with a click. 'Watch the stars, enjoy a cup of fine   
coffee, listen to a beautiful opera...' Jarod had said. He had given her, in   
the most unexpected way, an individual and isolated moment of pure, undefined   
beauty.  
  
Miss Parker smiled.  
  
  
The End.  
  
  
Feedback to kitty_amazon@yahoo.com  
  
Author's notes: This story is set sometime during the fourth season, before the   
major revelations such as Catherine Parker's *real* death and Ethan, etc.  
  
Laredii Island is of my own creation, and cannot be found amongst the   
Whitsundays. It is illegal to litter on the Great Barrier Reef, and dropped   
diving equipment may damage the coral. I am not a diving expert, and as   
I understand it, buddy breathing is usually not the safest option for people who   
have never dived together before - I used it as a plot device. The song is Vide   
Cor Meum by Patrick Cassidy, from the Hannibal soundtrack. 


End file.
